Advanced Muggle Studies
by FracturedFaerie
Summary: Hermione is taking Advanced Muggle Studies in her sixth year. What happens when the course turns out to be more than she ever expected? Contains original characters. DMHG.
1. Advanced Muggle Studies

Chapter One  
  
Hermione Granger breathed in a deep sigh of satisfaction as she smoothed the last wrinkle out of her comforter. She gazed over her section of the room and smiled, finding everything in its place. Her books were neatly aligned on her bedside table, held firmly in place with a bookend charm and on the other side of her bed, below the window, sat her trunks, stacked on top of one another to give her the most amount of space possible. Hanging above her bed were several framed portraits of her with Ron, Harry, and Ginny, and there were a few of her with her parents as well. Turning her head slightly she could see the empty beds of her roommates who had yet to arrive. Taking another deep breath, Hermione reveled in the quietness. Gryffindor tower would probably never be this quiet again.  
As if to prove her right, at that very moment, the door swung open as Lavender and Parvati came flying in with all of their belongings floating after them. They were chit chatting eagerly about their summer vacation and all the fun things they'd done and how good all the boys looked having grown up while they were apart, but they stopped dead in their tracks when they saw Hermione standing there.  
"Hermyyonee," Parvati cooed, "what have you been doing with yourself?" she asked. Hermione raised her eyebrows, confused at what the girl was asking her.  
"You look fantastic!" Lavender continued. "Your hair looks great like that, and your skin is amazing! Is that a spell?"  
"We're not allowed to practice magic over the break, remember?" Hermione reminded them gently. "My cousin is practicing to become a hairdresser, and I let her use me as a test dummy. It didn't turn out so great, but I figure it's only hair."  
"What do you mean, 'didn't turn out so great'? It looks wonderful!" Parvati chided.  
"Hermione is in denial that she's become a total knockout," Ginny informed them, coming into the room.  
"Ginny!" Hermione gasped. She most certainly had not become a total knockout. Maybe she had "filled out" a little bit over the summer, as her mother called it, but her hair was still a dull brown color, and thanks to her cousin it wasn't frizzy any more, but it was stick straight. "I wanted a different color, not these little lines, and I thought maybe she would make it kind of wavy instead of this boring straight business," she explained. Lavendar and Parvati exchanged glances as Ginny rolled her eyes.  
  
"They're called highlights, Hermione, not lines," Lavender sighed.  
"And straight is very in right now," Parvati informed her, "especially with your jaw line. Wavy hair would just make your face look too narrow."  
"Witches spend millions of galleons on potions trying to get hair that color, you should be grateful," Ginny added. Hermione sighed. She could see that she was going to lose this argument.  
"Alright, alright," she conceded. "I think I'm going to go see what Harry and Ron are doing," she decided, suddenly really wanting to leave the room.  
"Have you seen Harry?" Parvati squealed. Hermione's eyes widened and she made a beeline for the door. Harry could be a brother to her; discussing how attractive he was was one of the last things Hermione wanted to do. She was down the stairs in the common room before she could hear another word.  
  
Hermione eagerly took a seat in her advanced muggle studies class. She ordinarily would have sat in the front row, but the desks in the room were arranged in a circle. Being the first person to class, she got to watch the other students file in. This year the class was being taught by a new teacher, someone Dumbledore had personally selected right out of the teaching school. Hermione was a little bit disappointed at the turnout of students. There were only a few familiar faces, and only about eleven other students. A petite woman with blonde hair shut the door and took a deep breath. Hermione could tell right away that this woman had to be the new teacher.  
"Well, Good Morning," she began. Hermione and the other students murmured their response, and the teacher smiled widely at them. "My name is Professor Samantha Meurteuil; I've just graduated from teaching school. I was first in my class, and I have a degree in muggle studies. When I attended Hogwarts, which was, oh gosh, four or five years ago, I was-" Samantha was interrupted by the door opening.  
"A Slytherin," Draco Malfoy announced, coming into the room. Right behind him was Pansy Parkinson, who glided elegantly across the room to an empty seat. Hermione watched her go, envious. Pansy hadn't been the most attractive girl at the beginning of school but once she'd done some growing up, almost every boy in Hogwarts was drooling over her and her long legs. "Isn't that right, Sammie?" Draco asked, dropping his books on the only available desk in the room, which happened to be right next to Hermione. The crash from this action made Hermione jump instinctively. A sly smirk crossed Draco's face as he noticed this and quickly stuck his face almost nose to nose with hers. "Boo," he said, before turning to face Professor Meurteuil, who was now a bit pink in the cheeks but standing up straight.  
"Yes, that's right, Draco, I was in Slytherin. But that doesn't entitle you to arrive late to class. I'm sure Uncle Lucius would love to hear that his precious only son just cannot get himself out of bed on time for class," she intoned  
"Go ahead, Sammie, tell on me. He'll just inform the Headmaster that you can't handle your teaching duties," Draco crossed his arms and sat on top of his desk.  
"Be on time from now on, both of you. Ten points, each, off Slytherin for your tardiness. Draco, you are to address me as Madam Meurteuil, just as the other students do. Have a seat, or leave," Madam Meurteuil insisted, finally finding a firm voice. Draco took his time walking around his desk and sitting down. Madam turned to face the rest of the class and took a deep breath. "Alright, now as I was saying, I attended Hogwarts up until about 5 years ago, and then after graduation I went to the teaching school. I've always wanted to be a teacher here, so as you can imagine, I was very excited when Dumbledore selected me for this position. I hope we're going to have a great year here," Samantha paused to check the expressions of her students. Hermione glanced around the room and realized it must be incredibly difficult to teach a class like this one where most of the students didn't seem to care very much about the class. "Alright, well, since I am new, I'm just going to start out by giving you all a comprehensive exam so I can get an idea of what we need to cover before you take your NEWTS at the end of next year. So everyone needs to take out a quill, and you'll have an hour," she smiled at everyone, and then the exams appeared on their desks. Hermione took a deep breath. She'd already read most of the text, but she wasn't sure about taking an exam without any sort of formal preparation. "Take your time, and answer each question carefully. The results of this test will determine how you spend the rest of your school year," Madam Meurteuil reminded them.  
Hermione looked down at the questions in front of her. There was a short multiple choice section, but most of the exam consisted of short essay questions. Taking another deep breath she read the directions carefully:  
Choose a country you are familiar with and respond to each of the following questions with respect to that country. . Describe the system of education. What do they study? What do these fields have in common? How many different types of education are available? For example, magic students in England attend one school for seven years, then may take an apprenticeship or attend a specialized school for further learning in a particular field. How is that country run? Discuss funding, protection, rights and responsibilities, and citizenship. Explain the social structure. Be sure to address the culture. Write a chronology of the important historical events that have made a significant impact on shaping the country. Be sure to explain the importance of that event.  
  
Hermione sighed and started working. She was well into her twelfth  
page of parchment on the first essay when Madam Meurteuil announced that time was up. Hermione felt her heart stop. She hadn't answered any of the multiple choice questions, and was only halfway into the first essay. Scribbling furiously she tried to put together some sort of a sensible conclusion, but the paper vanished out from under her quill and she realized all too late that she had written all over the desk.  
"What's your name?" Madam Meurteuil asked her, standing right in front of her desk. Hermione cleared her throat.  
"Hermione Granger," she replied nervously.  
"Miss Granger, you will be serving detention for defacing school property with me after your last class. Please be prompt," Samantha informed her, giving her a look that said she meant serious business. Hermione couldn't believe it. It was the first day of class and she was already being assigned a detention, and she'd already failed an exam something that had never ever happened to Hermione before, not even in Snape's class, which lucky for her was next with Slytherin. She bit her tongue to keep from crying and headed for the door.  
Draco was right on her heels, Pansy at his side, clutching to his waist possessively.  
"So, Granger, trouble on the first day, what's next? Failing? Oh wait, you're already on your way to that," he chided her. Staring straight ahead, Hermione tried to ignore him, but she felt her stomach churning. How did he know she'd failed that exam?  
Draco didn't stop making fun of Hermione the entire way to the potions classroom. It wouldn't have been so bad if Pansy hadn't been there, punctuating each really foul remark with a delicate laugh. Never in her entire life had Hermione wanted the floor to just open up and swallow her as much as she did in those minutes. Fortunately, the comments stopped as soon as they reached the door to the potions classroom. Professor Snape's ominous visage was waiting for them in the doorframe.  
"Granger, station seven," He instructed, and made a shallow gesture with his arm. She headed across the room for the station with the big number seven floating above it and took a deep breath happy to be at least finished with the torment.  
Her reprise lasted only the few blissful moments it took her to cross the room. Only a second after she'd set her books down on the desk her new lab partner arrived.  
"Did you really fail that exam?" a soft throaty voice asked her. Hermione groaned inwardly and bit her tongue as Pansy walked around her to set down her books. Pansy's perfectly shaped golden blonde eyebrows were arched expectantly.  
"I dunno," Hermione choked. Pansy drew her lips together sympathetically.  
"It was a lot for the first day," she offered. "But at least we know what her testing style is so next time you'll know how to prepare."  
"I guess," Hermione was shocked that Pansy was being so nice to her. She couldn't help but be almost completely in awe of the girl. Pansy was about six inches taller than Hermione with blonde hair that fell just below her shoulder blades. Her skin looked like she'd just come back from the beach, and her legs went on for days. Somehow her school uniform managed to not only meet regulations, but hug her tightly in all the right places; the knee socks accentuated her shapely legs, the skirt fell just long enough to reveal them so you wanted to see more. The green and silver Slytherin tie ran along her chest to draw your eye straight to where her cleavage would be if it weren't covered by her button down shirt and sweater. It was enough to drive any warm-blooded male absolutely nuts and make every other girl absolutely sick with jealousy.  
"Ooh, Pansy, wasn't Sammie amazing?" a voice cooed. Hermione and Pansy both turned to see a girl that Hermione recognized from their first class standing across from them at the station marked with a six.  
"Hermione, have you met Blaise?" Pansy asked. "Zabini?" she added when the name didn't register. Hermione shook her head no shyly.  
"The name is familiar," she admitted. This made the two girls laugh.  
"Don't be so blasé, Granger, you'd have to be living under a rock to not have heard of Blaise Zabini," Draco informed her, joining the group of girls.  
"Hush, Draco," Blaise instructed patronizingly. She smiled widely at Hermione and extended her hand. Her teeth were brilliant white, and her skin a lovely porcelain color which accented her dark brown ringlet curls. "Nice to meet you, Hermione," she said. Hermione blushed and shook Blaise's hand. "You don't really think you failed that exam, do you?" she asked.  
"I sure hope not," Draco rolled his eyes. "We couldn't blemish her perfect record."  
"Knock it off," Blaise whacked him across the chest, but Hermione saw the laughs she and Pansy stifled. She shrugged shyly and prayed for class to start.  
"I think it'll be a good class," Pansy interjected. Blaise nodded excitedly.  
"Sammie is absolutely brilliant," Blaise informed everyone within listening range. "She always has been, we knew she'd do something to make the family proud. We were a little worried when she got engaged, but she proved us wrong."  
"You're related?" Hermione couldn't keep herself from interrupting. Blaise and Pansy exchanged amused glances.  
"She's my sister," Blaise explained. Hermione felt stupid even though she knew there was no way she would have known that. "Anyway, she announced to us that she got the job this summer at her wedding reception. It was such a surpr-"  
"Surprise?" Draco questioned. "Don't you mean scandal?"  
"No," Blaise said flatly.  
"I distinctly remember the news shocking everyone present for the announcement. And then the lecture about embarrassing the family in front of the press and all the guests," Draco tried to refresh her memory. "Or were you too far gone by then, Cuz?" he asked Blaise mockingly. Hermione wanted to interrupt again, but held her tongue. Blaise and Draco were cousins? "Blaisey here loves her champagne," he informed Hermione, putting his hands on Blaise's shoulders and kissing her cheek.  
"Draco, your behavior is disgusting," Pansy heaved a sigh. Draco shrugged and stepped away from his cousin.  
"If Draco and his Harem don't mind, I'd like to begin class," Professor Snape intoned, coming to hover menacingly nearby. Hermione blushed at being grouped in such a manner and tried to look busy reading her notes.  
  
The class seemed to drag on and on, much to Hermione's extreme disappointment. Pansy was friendly, but Blaise was just downright patronizing and Draco was much worse.  
"I'm feeling generous," Snape announced as his way of getting everyone's attention. "I'm only going to assign two rolls of parchment for today's essay. It is after all the first day," he pasted what could have potentially passed for a smile on his face. Hermione tried to smile gratefully at him as she gathered her books and headed for the door. Ron and Harry descended on her almost immediately.  
"You looked downright chummy with Pansy there, Hermione," Ron said accusingly. He and Harry both looked expectantly at Hermione. She sighed.  
"She was nice enough, but in a condescending way. It was torture. Blaise and Draco made up for the torture I didn't get from Pansy," she informed them. They gave her sympathetic looks.  
"At least she doesn't reek. Crabbe smells completely foul. I don't think he's ever bathed," Harry complained.  
"Well at least you two might get some help with your work. Goyle is practically illiterate," Ron sighed. Hermione had stopped listening though. Her mind was on the exam from that morning. She didn't think she could wait two more days to find out how she had done.  
"You two go on to lunch without me, I've got to go see how I did on my exam," she told them. Ron and Harry rolled their eyes instinctively. "It's not like that," she assured them, her tone getting panicky, "It was an essay exam and I didn't even finish the first essay."  
"Wow, Madam Meurteuil is pretty hard then?" Ron asked. Hermione sighed.  
"No one else seemed to have any trouble," she admitted. Harry and Ron exchanged glances.  
"Do you want us to come along?" Harry offered. Hermione shook her head.  
"I think I'll just go alone. Grab me a sandwich?" she asked. They nodded.  
"Care of Magical Creatures next," Ron reminded her, "Hagrid won't mind if you eat your lunch in his class." Hermione smiled and headed down to Madam Meurteuil's office.  
  
"I haven't even looked at them, Hermione," Madam Meurteuil admitted, setting down her cup of tea. She eyed Hermione very carefully and could tell that the student was very distressed. "Let's look at it right now, shall we?" She offered, gesturing to the chair next to her. Lifting the stack of papers, Madam Meurteuil pulled out Hermione's paper. She looked it over quickly. "Well, it looks like you ran out of time," Madam Meurteuil began. Hermione nodded and tried to stay calm. "I really can't give you much of a grade on this, Hermione, you've only got one essay partially written," Madam Meurteuil explained. Hermione felt tears welling up behind her eyes.  
"Is there anything I can do?" she asked. Madam Meurteuil shook her head.  
"It's a talent to be able to write concisely," she explained. "You have to decide what's really, really important and stick to that. You've written six pages about preschool, and six pages about elementary school. All you really needed to say was that this is where the students gather their fundamental skills such as reading, writing, and mathematics. If you'd felt the need to go into more detail all I really would have wanted to see was a little bit of discussion about the development of social skills. Two paragraphs tops. Be a little bit more realistic next time, Hermione. No one likes to read an entire encyclopedia when they can just read one article," she concluded. Hermione was in shock. No one had ever seriously told her that she was doing too much work before. "Let me put it this way. If you had written about twelve pages for each essay that would be close to fifty pages. If all fourteen of my students had turned in fifty pages, I would have to read seven hundred pages. I have no desire to do that."  
"I understand," Hermione said, crestfallen. "Well, thank you for your time," she offered, standing up. Samantha watched the girl leave her office, obviously upset by her grade on the exam, and then began to read the portion of the essay in front of her. When she'd finished reading it, she marked the top with a big red A and set it aside before picking up the next exam.  
"Cousin Draco," she mused, reading his name off the top. Quill in hand she leaned back in her chair to read what he had written. 


	2. The Project

A/N: I forgot to put up my disclaimer – I don't own anyone except my original characters which so far Samantha is the only one. Alright, there you go.

If you read this and want to read more, leave me a note saying so otherwise I just might abandon this story.

This chapter is rated PG-13, but it's pretty clean mostly because I don't want to get a hundred notes saying that this is supposed to be Draco and Hermione, not someone else and Hermione. So don't be put off by what happens here.

Chapter Two

Hermione sat curled up in an overstuffed armchair in a dim corner of the library, wearing her cherished soft grey pajama pants and a plain white tank top. She'd thrown her hair up into a messy up do and had her nose in a tattered copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ and was attempting to put her hellish first day behind her. As it turned out, all of her other classes that day were with the Slytherins. Heaving a sigh, Hermione turned to her favorite section of the book and reread the familiar words allowing them to wrap themselves around her like a cherished embrace. Before long she was so completely lost in her reading that she didn't even notice her Advanced Muggle Studies exam appear in her lap. At least not until Draco came waltzing over to her to rub his O for "outstanding," in her face.

"Get your exam back?" he asked, reaching for the paper in her lap. She looked down and barely had enough time to register the mark before he'd snatched it up. "But you didn't even finish it! That's ridiculous," he snapped, indignant. She shrugged smugly and grabbed the paper back.

"I guess she liked what she got," Hermione remarked coolly. Draco glared at her and walked away in silence. Hermione poured over her essay, reading the comments that Madam Meurteuil had written in the margins. Then she saw the note at the very bottom. "Please complete and resubmit," Hermione read aloud. She felt like jumping for joy, and quickly headed for a table.

As soon as she had answered the final multiple choice question, her exam vanished and she sighed a sigh of relief. She knew she had done much better this time, and she had also taken into account what Madam Meurteuil had said about writing concisely. Hermione had to admit that was not one of her strong points when it came to writing essays; she always felt like she was leaving out some of the most important details.

Glancing at the clock, Hermione realized it was almost time for the library to close, so she gathered her belongings and headed off to bed. As soon as she walked into her room, Parvati let out an annoyed sigh. Hermione turned to see what the matter was.

"How do you manage to look so darn cute in sweatpants?" Parvati accused. Hermione turned to look in the full length-mirror and shrugged.

"I really didn't do anything," she tried to explain, but Parvati wasn't having it.

"Oh please, Hermione," she began. But before she could get started, Ginny's voice broke out from where she was sitting on Lavender's bed.

"Just drop it, Parvati, she can't see it," Ginny interrupted.

"See what?" Hermione asked. She was getting frustrated. The girls formed a circle around her.

"Hermione, when you walk down the halls, everyone looks at you. They can't help it," Ginny informed her.

"You have the Gryffindor boys all tied up in knots," Lavender put in.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione laughed. "Name one boy who's so 'tied up in knots' as you put it."

"Neville Longbottom cannot function properly when you are in the room. Granted, he barely functions properly on his own, but when you walk in the room it's like he's an infant – he can't do anything," Parvati began.

"Seamus Finnegan practically drools when he looks at you. Honestly Hermione, I don't understand how you don't have a boyfriend," Lavender added.

"Dean Thomas can barely tear his eyes away from you. I swear he gets a semi just looking at you. You should have no trouble finding a date to the Upper-classes ball next week," Ginny finished, turning to look in the mirror.

"What ball?" Hermione asked, confused. The three girls glared at her.

"Oh for goodness sake, weren't you listening to the welcome speech Dumbledore gave?" Parvati was turning pink with frustration. "Next week there's a ball for all the sixth and seventh years," she informed Hermione. "We're going to Hogsmeade this weekend, and um, you're coming along," she decided for Hermione, who did not even have time to protest. With that, the girls seemed satisfied, and went back to whatever they had been doing before Hermione came in.

* * *

"So I bet you're all just dying to know what I thought about your exams," Madam Meurteuil said at the end of their next class. Everyone's attention was directed towards her. "The highest grade in the class was a one hundred percent, and the lowest was a seventy," she began, "This tells me that you are all fully qualified for the project I've chosen for you. At least as far as your muggle studies are concerned. What I will need for you to do, is to take these forms to each of your other teachers and return them to me next class. I'll explain the project at the end of next week," she paused, looking at everyone's disappointed faces. "For homework, finish reading chapter five and then write me a very detailed essay based on one of the end of chapter discussion questions," she finished, indicating that class had ended, "See you next week."

"So I have no idea what this project is, but I am completely psyched," Blaise informed Pansy at the beginning of Potions. "Sammie is so creative, I'm sure it's just going to be amazing."

"We'll see about that," Draco interjected. "She's a little bit too into muggles for my taste," he complained. The others rolled their eyes, and were fortunately rescued from listening to Draco whine any longer by Snape beginning class.

* * *

"Absolutely not," Hermione practically shouted, refusing to come out of the dressing room. "Half of my body isn't even covered," she protested. She could hear the girls sighing outside. Before she knew what was going on, the door to the dressing room had vanished. Parvati stood there with a wand in her hand, looking pretty pleased with herself. The three girls all drew in sharp breaths.

"Hermione you look amazing!" Ginny was the first to find words. The other girls nodded in agreement.

"With black heels, a pearl necklace and your hair up, like this," Lavender paused to sweep Hermione's hair up with one spin of her wand. "Fantastic," she proclaimed.

"You really do look good," a voice added from across the room. The four girls turned to see Blaise and Pansy crossing the room, both dressed in formals similar to the one Hermione was wearing. "But with your skin type you really shouldn't wear satin," she decided, pursing her lips together. Ginny, Parvati, and Lavender all turned to look at Hermione again with expressions on their face that clearly reflected that they had no idea what Blaise was referring to. Blaise took a few strides to a rack and grabbed another dress. "Try this one," she instructed thrusting it into Hermione's hands.

Hermione retreated into the shelter of the dressing room and quickly changed dresses. The new one was black, just like the one she had been wearing before, but it was made of crepe and not satin. The material clung just right in all the right places. She opened the door, and everyone just stared.

"Much better," Blaise proclaimed. She flashed a bright white grin at Hermione.

"Thanks," Hermione said. Blaise spun on her heel and headed back across the store. Pansy followed her, glancing at the dresses that the other girls were holding.

"I think you look exactly the same," Lavender whispered. The other two girls nodded. Hermione shrugged and glanced at the price tag.

"Well it's about fifteen galleons less," she decided. No one could scoff at those kind of savings. The other girls agreed and she waited while they all tried on dress after dress after dress. When they finally left the store, Hermione was absolutely exhausted.

"Now all we need to get you is a date!" Parvati exclaimed, giving Hermione a gentle push. Hermione raised her eyebrows almost in a panic.

"Don't you need dates too?" she asked the other girls. They looked at each other sheepishly.

"We have dates," Ginny confessed. Hermione could not believe her ears.

"Seamus asked me last night," Parvati explained.

"Dean asked me yesterday afternoon," Lavender chimed in.

"And Harry asked me this morning," Ginny finished. Hermione sighed.

"So much for Gryffindor being tied up in knots for me," she remarked.

"Neville is still available," Lavender suggested. The other girls gave her a look. "Well, I was just trying to be helpful," she sighed. Hermione followed the girls back to Hogwarts, not really caring about the dance anymore.

* * *

All of the sixth and seventh years were in a tizzy about the ball for the next few days. There was no escaping it. It was all everyone wanted to talk about. It was not until the last Muggle Studies class of the week that the subject on everyone's mind did a complete flip-flop.

"Uh, Hermione," Draco said kind of softly. Hermione turned her head to look at the boy sitting next to her. He flashed her one of his bright grins. "I was wondering," he began, leaning over the back of his chair. "Do you have a date to the ball yet?"

"No, not exactly," she responded after a second. She did not know why he was asking but she was not sure she wanted him to know she had not found anyone to go with yet.

"Cause, uh, I was wondering if you would go with me," he finished, and then bit his lip waiting for her response. Hermione just stared at him. There were no words for a moment, and then she finally found her voice.

"Aren't you going with Pansy?" she asked. He shook his head, glancing across the room at Pansy who was deep in conversation with Blaise. Hermione sighed. "If you can't find anyone else to go with by the afternoon of the ball, then I'll go," she decided. She knew better than to expect Draco to really want to go to the ball with her. He flashed her a grin, and then his face changed to complete disgust.

"No, Hermione, I will not go to the ball with you!" He practically shouted, leaping to his feet. Everyone in the room turned to look at them, until Blaise made a disgusted sound. Hermione found enough courage to look up just in time to see Pansy roll her eyes.

"Draco, that was unnecessary," Pansy scolded. Draco blew her a kiss and sat back down at his seat.

"She told me not to trick you like that," Draco confessed to Hermione. She pretended to be ignoring him, and suddenly became very fascinated with her quill. It seemed like ages until Madam Meurteuil finally started class.

"I'm sure you're all just dying to know," she spoke up, getting everyone's attention. The room fell silent immediately. "When our next exam will be," she finished. There was a visible wave of dismay that washed over everyone's faces as the words registered, and then a few moans and groans escaped their mouths. Madam Meurteuil held her hand up to silence them. "With our formidable headmaster's permission, I will not be administering any more exams," she informed them. Hermione could hardly believe her ears.

"Are you kidding me?" Blaise burst out, looking incredibly surprised and hopeful. Madam Meurteuil shook her head.

"No, this is no joke. There will be no more exams in this class. Instead we're going to do a year-long project. This project will entail a few reports and essays, but more importantly a day to day journal that you will keep for the rest of the year," Madam paused to check the reactions of her students and finding that they were all mostly hopeful, she went on.

"Based on your scores on the first exam, you all will be traveling to foreign countries to complete your advanced muggle studies. Some of you will be traveling to the States, some of you will be staying here, and some of you will be going to France. You will be attending Muggle School, and be completely immersed in muggle culture. For the most part, you will not be permitted to use magic although there will be some exceptions. You will complete your other Hogwarts courses by independent study," Madam Meurteuil stopped again, seeing the dismayed looks on her students' faces.

"Um, you're joking, right?" Blaise interjected. Madam Meurteuil shook her head, and Hermione noticed that she was visibly disappointed that no one was finding this project very exciting.

"This packet will explain everything," Madam said finally, a thick packet of papers appearing on everyone's desk. "I want this packet read in time for class on Monday, since you will be leaving immediately after my class. Class is dismissed. Go get ready for the ball," she finished. Everyone scrambled to collect their belongings and get out the door.

Hermione lagged behind; she and everyone else had classes after Muggle Studies so running out the door would not help her get ready for the ball any sooner. Instead, Hermione approached Madam Meurteuil's desk.

"Madam?" she began cautiously. Madam Meurteuil looked up, and Hermione thought she saw a glimpse of tears welling up in the woman's eyes. "I was just wondering if there is an alternative assignment available," she paused, and then felt insensitive for asking the question. "It's just that I grew up in a Muggle household and attended Muggle School for several years and I'm just so happy to be here that I feel as though-"

"There's no reason you shouldn't manage to do perfect on this assignment then," Madam Meurteuil decided, interrupting Hermione. "No, there will be no alternatives. I expect everyone to complete this project."

* * *

Hermione spent the extra time she had from that point until Potions class in the library, glancing through the packet. There was a lot of material in there explaining how their Hogwarts records would be translated to Muggle records and how the students were expected to complete the final year of muggle high school, known as "senior year" to include attending a minimum of school functions and gaining acceptance into a muggle college or university. The packet also included information concerning their memories of the previous school years and how they would be able to "remember" events after a lapse of time as a function of something and something. Hermione could not really focus on the details. She was far too upset about the prospect of returning to the Muggle world after all of the time she had spent in the magic one.

"You must just be thrilled, Granger," a nasty voice shouted across the library. Hermione looked up to see Blaise, Draco, and Pansy sitting at a table nearby looking at their own packets. "It's like you get to go back to your mother ship," Draco finished. Hermione bit her lip and collected her things, trying to fight back her tears. She ran out the closest door before she could hear him say anything more.

"Hermione?" a familiar voice called. She turned to see Harry and Ron heading towards her.

"Hi," she managed to croak out. Harry took her book bag from her and opened the zipper she had been struggling to open, while Ron took her text and the packet from Muggle Studies out of her hands. He put the book into her bag, but caught the title of the packet before he put it away.

"What Muggle Studies trip?" he exclaimed, making Hermione burst into tears. His eyes widened as he skimmed the description. "The entire year? How come you didn't tell us about this?" he asked, incredulous.

"Because I didn't even know about it until today. It's going to be just awful," Hermione sobbed.

"What are you talking about? It sounds like a blast!" Ron kept reading.

"Then maybe you should go in my place," Hermione offered. Harry gave her a big hug.

"Maybe it won't be so bad," he said, trying to be hopeful. "We'll still get to owl each other," he pointed out. Hermione sighed and wiped her eyes.

"We should get to class," she decided and took her book bag back from Harry. She started heading towards the dungeon and almost missed an odd exchange between Harry and Ron. "What is it?" she asked. The boys glanced at each other.

"Hermione, do you have a date to the ball yet?" Harry asked. She shook her head no, and Harry gave Ron a pointed glance.

"I'll go with you, Ron, if that's what you're getting at," Hermione sighed. Ron blushed deep purple and smiled shyly. Hermione resisted rolling her eyes at him and continued on to Potions class.

* * *

Unfortunately, news of the trip had traveled faster than wildfire and everyone in Potions was already talking about it when Hermione and the boys came into the room.

"Hermione!" Parvati and Lavender cooed as soon as they spotted her. Instantly she was swarmed by other Gryffindors, asking questions and offering suggestions.

"Hey! Back off!" Parvati called out. Everyone took a few steps back from Hermione, and Lavender and Parvati pushed their way up to stand with her.

"We have so much to do this weekend," Lavender informed her.

"As soon as we heard, we went to work," Parvati agreed. "I've already owled my cousins in the States."

"Um, thanks guys," Hermione tried to appear grateful. What she really wanted to do was hide away from everyone. Fortunately, at that moment Snape swept into the classroom slamming the door behind him.

"Settle down," Snape said as he made his way to the front of the room.

* * *

"Hermione, hold still!" Parvati exclaimed.

"That hurts!" Hermione shrieked, cupping her eye with one hand. Parvati heaved a sigh.

"Just let me finish," she pleaded. Hermione reluctantly removed her hand and braced herself for the next part. Parvati ran the tip of her wand along the bottom of Hermione's eyebrow, slowly at first and then yanked it away at the last second. Hermione yelped in pain again, and Parvati rolled her eyes. She tapped the brow with her wand and instantly the pain was gone. Hermione stopped cringing and looked for a mirror.

"No!" Parvati pushed Hermione back down into her chair. "Not yet. Lavender, she's ready for you," Parvati called. Lavender came around the screen with a bowl of something that looked like chip dip.

"This is getting ridiculous," Hermione sighed. "I don't need a mud mask, you're going to slather my face in makeup anyways."

"Hush," Lavender insisted, taking a huge glop of the mask and dumping it on Hermione's forehead. "This will help to clean out your pores and make them smaller so when we put the makeup on you it won't clog your pores so badly. Just trust us," Lavender begged. Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned back.

"Am I going to have time to write my Transfiguration essay once this sets?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so," Lavender said, glancing at Parvati, who also shook her head no.

"We have a lot to do," Parvati reminded Hermione. Lavender finished smoothing the mask on Hermione's face and stood back to admire her work. "Ginny! Your turn," Parvati called out.

After Hermione had been reasonably poked, plucked, painted, smoothed, and curled, all three girls stood back and had a collective sigh of happiness. Hermione watched their faces, anxious to see what she looked like. Parvati reached out her hand, which at some point during the process of fixing up Hermione had managed to become perfectly manicured itself, to grab the closest mirror, which she held up for Hermione to see.

Hermione could barely recognize her reflection. Parvati had swept her hair up into a sleek bun, and it looked like they'd glued her hair in place. Looking down at her hands, Hermione admired Ginny's perfectionism when it came to giving French manicures. Lavender had done her makeup, which was slightly shimmery, but very sophisticated.

"What do you think?" Ginny asked, slightly nervous. Hermione had to admit she never would have been able to do it on her own.

"It looks fantastic, thank you," she said.

"Go put the dress on!" Lavender insisted. Hermione disappeared behind the screen and emerged a few minutes later. This warranted another collective sigh from the girls.

"Perfect," Parvati pronounced.

* * *

Walking into the Great Hall later that evening Hermione felt as though every single eye in the room was fixed on her. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and Ron gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"This is going to be fun," he assured her. She nodded and smiled at him. They made their way to one of the small round tables where Harry and Ginny were already sitting. The tables were covered in black and silver tablecloths, with small silver candles floating above them. The plates were silver, and when Hermione sat down a black napkin appeared on her lap. She looked around at her friends, who were clearly as impressed as she was.

Hermione had to admit, the meal was fantastic. It was really nice to sit and spend time with Ron, Harry, and Ginny when the boys were not busy shoving food in their mouths in an effort to run out of the hall as soon as possible. Thinking about this, a small knot formed in Hermione's stomach as she realized this would probably be the last time that they would get to do this all year.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked her. Hermione nodded. "Do you want to go get some air?" he offered. The two stood up and left the table. Ginny raised her eyebrows at Hermione, who chose to ignore it. She followed Ron out of the hall to the terrace, and they sat down on a bench.

"I'm going to miss it here," she remarked absently. Ron sighed.

"I'm going to miss you," he lamented. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You're going to miss copying my homework," she corrected. Ron hung his head.

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed. "But I will miss you too," he said honestly after a few seconds. "I'll miss the constant reminders to do my work and to tuck in my shirt," he teased. Hermione smiled.

"I'll probably still be able to send you howlers," she offered. Ron groaned. Inside, they could hear the music starting up. "Let's go for a walk," Hermione suggested. She knew Ron probably would not mind missing the dancing.

They walked down through the gardens to the lake, and soon found themselves heading towards Hagrid's house.

"I'm going to miss him too," Hermione remarked. "This sucks," she added. Ron stopped walking and turned to face her.

"Hermione, can't you just forget about it for a little while? Try to enjoy the evening?" He suggested. Hermione knew he had a point.

"I am having a nice time," she informed him. He smiled, and they started walking again.

"Me too," he agreed. "This is fun," Ron admitted, "Even if we have to get all dressed up."

"It's nice just to be able to spend time together," Hermione agreed. Ron nodded. Hermione shuddered when a chilly breeze blew off the lake.

"Do you want to go inside?" Ron offered. Hermione nodded.

"It's kind of chilly out tonight," she commented. She and Ron began walking back towards the castle. Once they got inside, Hermione turned to go back to the Great Hall, but Ron grabbed her arm.

"Do you want to go talk some more? We could just go back to the tower for a little while," he suggested. Hermione hesitated. She knew Ron probably did not really want to talk, and she was not sure she was interested in doing anything but talking with him, but she decided that she might as well go for it. She most certainly did not want to make a fool out of herself when Lavender and Parvati tried to get her to dance with everyone.

Hoping she did not look as nervous as she felt, Hermione turned to follow Ron back to Gryffindor Tower. They found all of the younger years in the common room, so Ron suggested that they go up to his room. Hermione agreed and took a casual deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

This was not the first time Hermione had been in this sort of a situation. She had fooled around with a few guys, mostly friends from home. What made her so nervous was the idea of fooling around with Ron and how far she wanted to go with him. She wanted to be sure things did not get out of hand, after all Ron was one of her best friends. This was far more awkward than she had wanted it to be.

She sat down on Ron's bed and waited patiently while he pulled the curtain closed. He came and sat down next to her and took her hands in his. Hermione waited for him to say something, but he never did, he just leaned forward and started kissing her. His lips were not as soft as she had expected, but he was a surprisingly good kisser. She leaned back on his pillow, letting him crawl on top of her. Ron rested a hand on her stomach and continued to kiss her, letting his tongue tease hers ever so slightly.

Meanwhile, Hermione's thoughts turned back to her trip. Lavender and Parvati's friends in the states had been busily owling package after package of new clothes and accessories for Hermione to wear. The girls had yet to let Hermione see any of it, but they had been busy clipping magazine articles for her so she knew how to wear the clothes. Hermione was not sure how she was going to break it to them that she did not plan to wear anything they had gotten her.

There was also the problem of muggle classes. They were being required to do all of their muggle class work in addition to their Hogwart's assignments. All of this schoolwork was going to run Hermione ragged. She had been busy trying to complete as many of her Hogwart's assignments as was humanly possible before she left so that she would have less to pack, however it was not going very well.

Ron shifted his weight and Hermione could feel his stiffness poking her inner thigh. His hand was now running along her side and it paused as though Ron were gathering courage before he let it slide down further to rest on her bottom. Hermione could feel a familiar stirring inside her. She really was enjoying this, even though her mind was a million miles away. With his other hand, Ron was busy hiking up her dress. Shifting her hips, Hermione allowed him to pull it off her and drop it onto the floor by his bed.

"Nice," Ron commented, running a finger along the waistband of the tiniest pair of underwear Hermione had ever worn in her entire life. Lavender had insisted that the dress just would not look right if Hermione did not wear them. Hermione opted not to try and explain that to Ron but managed to smile in appreciation of his compliment. He quickly resumed kissing her, and Hermione allowed her mind to start wandering again.

She was trying to think of a way she could convince Professor Dumbledore that she needed to be able to use Hogwart's library while she was overseas, but was coming up blank. After all, Madam Meurteuil had provided a list of academic resources in close proximity to where they would be living in the packet, which Hermione practically had memorized at this point.

Then Ron began running his fingers over her panties, just in between her legs and Hermione let out a soft moan, surprising both Ron and herself. He grinned and pressed a little bit harder. Hermione sighed contentedly – he definitely had her full attention now. Ron let his hand slide over her thigh and back to her butt and shifted his weight so that he was lying on top of her again. He started to rock his hips back and forth, poking her repeatedly between the legs with what Hermione could tell was going to be disappointingly small.

"Ron," she said, trying to get him to stop. He did not seem to hear her. "Ron!" Hermione raised her voice and gave him a little bit of a shove. "I think we should stop now," she said. His face fell but he agreed. Hermione slid out from underneath him and put her dress back on.

"We'll catch dessert if we go back now," Ron offered. Hermione smiled and nodded.

"Sounds good to me," she agreed, heading for the door.

"Wait!" Ron stopped her and quickly used his wand to fix her hair.

"Where did you learn that?" Hermione was amazed. Ron shrugged and opened the door for her.

* * *

Just as Ron had suspected, dessert was being served as they returned to the Great Hall. Hermione and Ron rejoined Harry and Ginny at their table as a small fountain of chocolate fondue appeared. Ginny selected a strawberry from the plate in front of her and twirled it under the stream of chocolate, giving Hermione an 'I know exactly where you've been' look. Ignoring it, Hermione picked up her fork and speared a piece of cheesecake.

"Hermione!" she heard Parvati coo behind her, "I'm so glad you're back." Hermione had to turn and look at the girl, who was absolutely stunning to behold in a red and gold beaded gown. Her long silky black hair was tied up in a fancy knot, held in place by two gold clips. "I asked the band to play muggle music after dessert so that you can practice dancing to it before you go."

"Thanks, Parvati," Hermione smiled, making a mental note to vanish as soon as possible. Parvati shrugged her shoulders as if to say it was nothing and headed back to her table. Hermione sighed a little but ate her cheesecake and promptly heaved a delighted sigh.

"This is phenomenal," Harry pronounced, a bit of chocolate sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth. Ginny giggled at him and tipped her head up, letting her golden red curls cascade down her back before she kissed Harry to get the chocolate off. Hermione looked down at her plate, wishing she had the grace to make that trick look as elegant as Ginny did.

"Gag me," Ron muttered, and Hermione had to smile. "You wanna dance?" Ron offered. Hermione's face must have reflected her thoughts because he laughed. "But Hermione, the band is going to play muggle music so you can practice dancing to it," he reminded her, batting his eyelashes dramatically. Hermione laughed and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

Once they got there, Hermione froze. She had no idea how to move to this music. Turning her head, her eyes watched the other students for help, but it was hard to understand how they were doing what they did. Ron met her gaze and smiled at her.

"It's not as hard as it looks, I assure you," he said soothingly. "But you're going to have to get a bit closer," he informed her, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her right up against him. "Spread your legs," he whispered, and Hermione blushed but complied. He put his hand on her lower back and began to move with the music. Hermione tried to follow him as best she could, but felt hopelessly awkward.

"Relax, you look good," Lavender whispered in her ear as she and Dean came to dance next to them. Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes and tried to relax. Just as soon as she felt confident enough that she had the hang of it, the song changed.

This next song had a smoother, less obvious beat. Hermione looked around to see how everyone else was moving to it, and realized that it was basically the same thing. She took a deep breath and tried to relax some more.

"You're doing fine," Ron assured her. She smiled.

"Where on earth did you learn to dance like this?" Hermione had to ask him. He grinned.

"This summer, Harry and I spent some time in London," he admitted. Hermione just laughed.

"Mind if I cut in?" a female voice asked. Hermione turned to see a petite brunette standing at her elbow and quickly turned Ron over to her. She decided to have a seat and maybe some water while she watched the others dancing. Perching on the edge of her chair so as not to muss her dress, Hermione took a sip out of the crystal goblet that had appeared in front of her seat. Her stomach filled with butterflies when she remembered that in two days she would be leaving Hogwarts for an entire year. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Hermione tried to concentrate on the dancers and keep her mind off the unpleasant circumstances she had found herself in.

Hermione scanned the dance floor, watching Parvati swing her hips seductively from side to side – dangerously close to Seamus' crotch. A warm flush filled Hermione's cheeks, embarrassed for witnessing such a blatantly sexual display. Certainly this was not really how the muggles danced, was it? She looked to Lavender who was facing Dean but making similar motions with her hips. It looked almost like they were-

"Dry humping?" Harry broke Hermione's train of thought so precisely she turned an even darker shade of red.

"Was I talking out loud?" She asked, wishing she could crawl under the table.

"No," Harry laughed, "You didn't have to; the look on your face said it all. I hate to tell you, but this is the way they dance in the clubs. I'm pretty sure it's the same at school dances."

"Marvelous," Hermione sighed. Harry sat down next to her.

"Look, Hermione, I know this seems like the worst possible thing that could be happening to you right now," he paused, but not long enough for Hermione to get a word in. "I just want you to know that it's going to be hard for Ron and I too. Not just because we'll miss having your help on our school work, but because you're our best friend. We've never had to go it alone, Hermione, and I'm not quite sure how we'll manage. How am I going to figure out what girls are really thinking? And who will be here to make sure we don't get into too much trouble?" Harry paused again, letting his words sink in. "I don't know how I'm going to deal with Voldemort and the Order, and all of that without you around, Hermione," he added, lowering his voice. Hermione felt like crying, but fortunately at that very second Ginny returned from the powder room and snaked an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"I'm sure you'll manage with your schoolwork just fine, Harry," Hermione changed the subject to keep herself calm. "Especially since we're going to be in different classes now that we've begun our N.E.W.T.s ," she reminded him. Harry sighed.

"I suppose I'll just have to find someone else to proofread my essays," He lamented. Ginny and Hermione laughed. Hermione lifted her goblet again and took a rather large gulp out of it. Just then, Harry spotted Ron escorting the girl he had just been dancing with out of the Great Hall – through the main doors no less.

"My brother is such a pig," Ginny remarked, following Harry's line of vision. Hermione choked on a piece of ice, and began to panic. "Are you okay, Hermione?" Ginny asked, standing up to pat Hermione on the back. Hermione nodded and tried to swallow it. After a few minutes she managed to cough it up and then felt rather stupid.

"I think I'm going to go," she decided, standing up.

"Hermione, don't let him get to you," Harry said. "There's loads of other guys here to take up with. Just brush it off."

"I'm fine, I think I've just had enough excitement for the night," Hermione pleaded. "I'm not upset about Ron, we're just friends," she assured them. After a little while longer, Harry and Ginny let Hermione go even though they were not convinced she was not in the least bothered by Ron ditching her.

Hermione left the Great Hall and headed not for Gryffindor Tower but for somewhere else entirely. She paused only once to take her shoes off, and felt much more comfortable padding through the deserted halls of the school in just her stockings. Trouble was, without her shoes on, the dress was far too long and required her to carry the train in her free hand. It made walking much more difficult. Still, she made it to her destination without much delay.

Dropping her shoes and forgetting how expensive her dress was, Hermione hoisted herself partway up the stone wall to sit in a window that overlooked the lake and Hagrid's hut and part of the terrace and gardens behind the Great Hall. From her vantage point here Hermione had been able to overhear a lot of information over the years. She was not completely obvious to the approaching passerby, but she had managed to startle a lot of unassuming conversationalists. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the glass open to let a bit of the night breeze in. It made her stomach flip over a few times to realize that this was probably the last night she would spend sitting in this window. Closing her eyes, she tried to steady herself.

"Thinking of jumping?" an all too familiar voice asked. Hermione sighed as she realized she would not be finding any peace and quiet tonight.

"No, I just wanted some air," she corrected.

"Funny," Draco mused. "I thought I saw you getting some earlier with that Weasley boy," he commented. Hermione did not seem fazed by his remark, so he just shrugged – even though she was not even looking at him. "Coincidentally, I came to get some air as well," He changed his tactics. "So, shove over," he ordered. Hermione just looked at him blankly. "Look, Hermione, these other windows don't open, so we're going to have to share. Or is that a foreign concept for an only child like yourself?"

Hermione shook her head no, and scooted to one side. How was it that he, Malfoy, was able to insult her for being an only child when he was one himself? The boy's attitude was mind-boggling.

"It was a lovely evening for a while, wasn't it?" Draco mused. Hermione nodded absently. He began to rifle through his pockets for something and eventually produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "Would you like one?" He offered.

"S-sure," Hermione was surprised that he was being so nice to her. Draco lit two cigarettes and passed one to her. She took a cautious drag from hers and was pleasantly surprised to find a sweet taste on her lips after she moved the cigarette from her mouth.

"They're clove," Draco explained. "Imported," he added. They sat in silence for a bit, and could hear the faint strains of music still coming from the Great Hall. "I can't believe I'm going to miss an entire year here," Draco lamented. Hermione heaved a huge sigh and Draco turned his head to look at her. "What's it like, to live without magic?" he asked.

"Frustrating," she said first. "It seems as though simple tasks take much longer to do."

"I've never lived without House Elves," Draco confessed. "It will be interesting to see how those translate," He raised his eyebrows as if deep in thought. Hermione made a small noise that clearly signaled her disgust with the topic. "They're not like slaves you know," he informed her.

"Yes they are!" Hermione snapped. "They're not paid for their work, how is that unlike slavery?" she demanded.

"Hermione, they have never known any other way of life. For centuries, this has been the way things are for their kind. They don't understand why anyone would want money – they have no need of it. Freedom is punishment for them," he tried to explain. "House elves are usually only let go when they've done something wrong."

"It's just wrong," Hermione protested. "They don't even know they're being treated poorly."

"But most of the time, they're not," Draco corrected her. "They have somewhere to live, food to eat. If they get injured they're permitted to take time off. People who abuse their elves are just barbaric."

"I still feel like it's wrong," She sighed. Draco shrugged.

"My house elves have never been mistreated," he said, as if that was enough. Hermione sighed and put her cigarette out. "Here," Draco held his hand out and Hermione dropped the butt into it. He slid it back into his cigarette case.

"This year is going to be the worst year of my life," Hermione sighed. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I don't think it's fair to say that just yet," He scolded. Hermione gave him a look. "What was that for? I've never lived without magic, at least you're slightly used to it," he pointed out. "I know you think that because Sam is my cousin I get preferential treatment, but you're wrong. Why do you think she's sending me to the States? So my father can't interfere. He doesn't have the connections over there as he does here, so there's no way he can make this assignment any easier for me."

"But didn't you write your essay on the States?" Hermione asked. Draco shook his head.

"No, Sammie has been drilling me to learn about the States so I can handle myself over there," he confessed. "So it's been a royal pain in the ass."

Hermione was at a loss for words. She was feeling a little bit better about the assignment now that she and Draco were on speaking terms. Granted, she knew better than to expect this peace to last for very long, especially in front of Pansy and Blaise, but at least she had even the smallest of connections to someone who would be with her this year.

"It's getting late," Draco commented. He put out his cigarette and put the butt away. "We should get to bed. I'll see you on Monday," he said, reaching his hand up to help Hermione down from the window. Hermione smiled and allowed him to help her down from her perch. He handed her the shoes she had discarded earlier, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the lovely chat," he laughed. Hermione smiled a little wider. Was he joking with her? She headed back to Gryffindor Tower, hoping that everyone would be asleep before she got in.

* * *

Much to her chagrin, the common room was full when she returned, and everyone in her bedroom was still up.

"Hermione!" Parvati squealed when she spotted her coming in. "Where have you been?" she asked pointedly.

"I just needed some air," Hermione informed the girls.

"We saw Ron leave with Angie. Ugh. Boys are such pigs," Lavender informed Hermione.

"You're not upset are you?" Parvati was indignant. "I can't believe it! Your date ditched you and you don't even care," she was shocked. Hermione disappeared behind a folding screen and changed into her pajamas. She came and sat on Lavender's bed, and the girls began helping her take her makeup off.

"I had a fabulous time," Lavender began. She told the girls all about her evening with Dean, and Ron was soon forgotten about. Hermione was thankful for the diversion. She and the girls talked until the sun began to rise and they all could barely hold their eyes open.

* * *

It seemed as though her head had just hit the pillow, when someone began to shake Hermione awake the next morning.

"Wake up!" a frustrated voice was insisting. Hermione opened her eyes to see Ginny standing there. "You're going to miss breakfast if you don't hurry," Ginny informed her. Hermione sat up quickly and headed to put clothes on.

"Not so fast," Parvati stopped her. "Scourgify!" Parvati pointed her wand at Hermione's face. Hermione had forgotten that the girls had insisted she sleep with a mud mask on.

"Here," Lavender thrust an outfit into Hermione's arms and shoved her towards the folding screens.

Hermione was barely awake or she would have found the words to protest. She slipped on the jeans, and tried to put the shirt on but found it was almost impossible. Sticking her head out from behind the screen, she asked for some help. Ginny rushed to her side and quickly straightened a few seams, gave a sharp tug, and turned the entire shirt around.

"Beautiful," Ginny pronounced. Hermione emerged and the two other girls gave their nod of approval. They ushered her quickly out of the room and down to the Great Hall.

* * *

Hermione spent the rest of the weekend trying on clothes, practicing putting together outfits, and trying desperately to get some schoolwork done. Parvati and Lavender were relentless. Fortunately, Hermione was a quick learner and while she was not a girly-girl she still cared about her appearance. First impressions were very important, and she definitely wanted to make a good first impression.

Sleep did not come easy for Hermione that night. She kept tossing and turning in her bed, struggling to find a comfortable position. Everything was packed and with help from Lavender and Parvati, it all fit into one trunk. Even though she knew it was all safely put away, and that she was not forgetting anything, she still felt uneasy about the assignment. She got out of bed, grabbed the packet Madam Meurteuil had given them, and headed down to the common room.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione awoke to Harry and Ron tickling her feet with their quills. She jumped out of the chair and had to sit right back down. The butterflies in her stomach were making her feel so nauseous that she really had no desire to move.

"C'mon Hermione, let's go get breakfast," Ron suggested. Hermione shook her head no.

"You'll feel better if you eat something," Harry insisted, pulling her to her feet. "Go get dressed."

Hermione headed up to her room where she found an outfit all picked out for her. It was a short khaki skirt and a navy blue polo shirt. A pair of white sneakers were sitting on the floor, and a little jewelry box was sitting on the bed. Hermione got dressed and sat down to open the box. Inside she found a string of pearls, a navy blue hair ribbon, and a note from the girls wishing her luck.

Despite her nerves, Hermione smiled. She fastened the necklace around her neck and tied the ribbon around her ponytail before checking her reflection in the mirror.

Hermione Granger barely recognized the person looking out at her from the glass. The girl in front of her looked a few years older than her and absolutely scared to death. She took a deep breath.

"Relax, you're going to be just fine," Hermione reassured herself. She headed down the stairs to the common room to meet the boys.

* * *

A few short hours later, Hermione was hurrying down the hall to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Her trunk was following behind her, lilting precariously from side to side as they sped down the hallways. Hermione supposed her spell was a little bit off because of her nerves. She looked around to be sure no one was watching and ducked into the bathroom.

Proceeding directly to the sinks, Hermione discovered that the correct sink was already open and revealing a large pipe. Following the instructions she was given, her trunk went down the pipe first. Hermione took a deep breath and hoped for the best before she slid down after it.

Fortunately, it seemed as though the tunnel had been cleaned before she went down it. Ron and Harry had described it as being wet and slimy, but it seemed to be just fine now. Hermione grimaced, imagining that after all of her classmates had gone ahead of her it was likely that they had picked up most of the slime. She landed at the bottom of the tube and skidded straight into her trunk. Watching the bruise appear on her shin, Hermione was glad the trunk had gone first.

Hermione scrambled to her feet and dragged the trunk aside. She sat down on top of it and perused the packet once more before tucking it inside the trunk. Instead, she took out her tattered copy of _Hogwarts: a History_ and began to read. Moments later the book was snatched right out of her hands.

"Such a bookworm," Draco chided, flipping through the pages with disdain. "This thing is a piece of trash, Granger," he commented. "Look how old it is," he remarked, holding it up for everyone around him to see.

"Draco, please give it back," Hermione asked politely, getting to her feet. She felt foolish for thinking they had patched things up, but still incredibly disappointed. Draco just laughed at her and began tossing it from one hand to the next. "Please," Hermione pleaded.

"Just buy a new one. How can you even read this piece of crap?" he asked, walking backwards. "Oops," he joked, pretending to drop it. Hermione lunged forward to grab it, but Draco was faster. He went to toss it to his other hand but pretended to have overthrown. The book landed squarely in the middle of the pool of slimy green water on the other side of the walkway.

Hermione gasped, watching the book start to sink. The water began to bubble around it. She reached for her wand, but it was back in her trunk and the book was sinking fast. Seeing no other choice, Hermione began to untie her shoes.

"Eww, she's going to go get it!" Blaise shrieked. Hermione gritted her teeth and went to step into the pool.

"Miss Granger?" Madam Meurteuil's voice cut through the thick air of the chamber. Hermione spun around to see Madam Meurteuil approaching. With a swift flick of the wrist, the book was lifted out of the water and fell safely in Hermione's hands.

"Thank you," Hermione blushed. Samantha gave her a curt nod and turned her attention to the other students.

"Alright, you all will be departing shortly," Madam Meurteuil reminded them. "I've already seen off the other two groups. A few reminders before you all depart. Today is Monday, August twenty fourth. You are meeting with your school counselors to plan your schedule for the school year. The other port key is located on the school football field. Your arrival time should be close to ten in the morning. Once you return home, you will find your belongings have already been unpacked for you. Any magical items you are bringing along, you will find under your bed. Are there any questions?" Madam Meurteuil looked over the anxious faces of her students and smiled warmly. "I wish you all the best of luck. Please place your hands on the statue of the basilisk behind you," she paused while the students arranged themselves. "One…….two……three!"


	3. Dinner Party

A/N: The high school featured in this chapter is entirely fictional, but decidedly based on my own high school. If there is a school by this name, I apologize for any negative insinuations. I also apologize that this chapter is so short and took so long for me to produce. I will try to do better! Also, if anyone knows how to fix the paragraphs so they're all indented after I upload them that way, that would be great.

Chapter Three

Hermione opened her eyes and looked around. She was standing on the fifty yard line of an enormous football field. The end zones were painted a deep burgundy, and in gold lettering she could just make out the word "Cougars."

"Hey Kids! Get off the field!" an angry man's voice called out. Hermione turned around to see a stout balding man marching towards them with a clipboard in his hand.

"Right away, Coach G," Draco called out. Hermione bit her tongue to keep from laughing at him. He spoke with an American accent that sounded incredibly bizarre coming out of his mouth. The other students noticed it too.

"Draco! I didn't even recognize you," the coach apologized. "Please though, they've just fertilized so the field is a nice even shade of green for the pre-season. Would you and your friends mind taking the party somewhere else?"

"Not a problem," Draco flashed a brilliant white smile at the man.

"Tell your dad I say hi. Both of you will be out for tryouts this evening, right?" The coach looked worried for a second.

"Of course we will be," Draco reassured him. He turned to the others. "You heard the man. Pre-season! Off the grass!" Draco barked at everyone, Hermione in particular. Everyone broke into a jog towards the track.

"Is that the school?" Hermione heard Pansy whisper to Blaise. Both girls went into an immediate fit of giggles hearing Pansy's new accent. But indeed, Pansy was right. The brick building coming into their line of vision was none other than Kensington Preparatory School, known more familiarly to the students as "Kensie Prep."

Hermione looked at her watch and realized that she would be late for her counseling appointment if she kept dawdling. Picking up the pace of her walk, she saw a set of doors leading into the building almost straight ahead of her.

Once her eyes adjusted to the light, Hermione saw in front of her a long corridor that for some reason, she knew stretched the length of the entire school. Tentatively, she headed down this long hallway, taking note of the perpendicular hallway that she knew housed the auxiliary gym and the cafeteria.

It was the most bizarre feeling Hermione had ever experienced. She felt as though she knew exactly where she was going, even though she had never been inside this building before. Each classroom she passed seemed distantly familiar to her, and after seeing it for a few seconds she was able to recall the subject taught in each room as well as some of the teacher's names. Hermione shuddered involuntarily. This was definitely going to take some getting used to.

Without any trouble at all, Hermione managed to find her counselor's office just fine. She had arrived exactly on time so she was shown into his office right away. Her counselor was a thin, balding man with little myopic eyes. He smiled warmly at Hermione and shut the door behind her before sitting back down at his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a thick folder.

"Hermione Granger is it?" He asked. Hermione nodded, as he opened the folder. He rifled through several sheets of paper and studied each one carefully in turn. Hermione could feel her heart pounding faster as each minute passed and he said nothing. The thin man pursed his lips and removed his glasses. He gazed at the manila folder for a few more seconds before he looked up at Hermione.

"Your academics are quite easily the strongest this school has seen in years, Miss Granger," he began. Hermione could hear in his tone of voice that there was something he wasn't saying. She felt a small knot form in the pit of her stomach.

"But," she prompted, hoping he would go on

"But your extra-curricular activities leave something to be desired. Colleges are really looking for well-rounded students. Ones who can maintain an excellent GPA while also participating in sports and clubs," He explained. Hermione's brow furrowed.

"But I have extracurriculars," she protested. He consulted the folder again, and then raised his eyebrows at her.

"Honor Society, photography club, and a failed attempt at starting a lemming protection society? Miss Granger, let me be completely honest with you," he paused, and Hermione had to agree that maybe her portfolio was a little bit one-sided. She gave herself a mental slap for the lemming project, which she assumed was the translation of SPEW into a non-magic crusade. "Most colleges want athletes. They really want someone who can contribute something to their school which will be a vital part of their community. I'm not saying you won't get accepted at your top choice school just because you're not captain of the softball team, but I am saying that maybe as a challenge to yourself for your senior year you might want to try expanding your horizons a little bit. Try to take a few leadership roles. Do something that no one expects of you. It can only help you at this point," he ended what Hermione was sure he considered to be an inspirational talk. She stood up, hoping that her knees would carry her at least to the girl's bathroom before they gave out. Giving her counselor a weak smile and a limp handshake, she did her best to shake it off before leaving the office.

* * *

After having taken a long hot bath, Hermione crawled onto her bed. Her hair thrown up into a lose topknot of sorts, and having taken her contacts out for the night, Hermione was working what she referred to as her librarian look. Moving Crookshanks, she sat down to consult her course selection booklet. Just like at Hogwarts, she found she was having trouble narrowing down the classes she wanted to take to fit the number of hours in the school day. Muggle schools offered so many exciting options that she wanted to explore while she had the chance. Deciding to start with the basics, Hermione selected an English class, a math class, a science class, and a history class. This left her with three more classes. She consulted her booklet to see which elective classes she would need. As she suspected, she had already met all the graduation requirements, meaning that she was free to take anything she wanted. So then she turned to her list of credits to see which classes she'd already taken.

As a member of the photography club, she decided it was probably best to be in a photography class, and she discovered she had already taken all of the available photography courses. Rifling through her papers, she found a letter to her counselor that she assumed he must have given her by accident. She set it aside so she would remember to return it later, when something in the letter caught her eye. The author of the letter was the head of the art department. Unable to fight her curiosity, Hermione scanned the letter and discovered it did belong in her folder after all. It was a letter of recommendation written for her suggesting that she belonged in the Advanced Placement Portfolio class. Well, that took care of her photography class. She had already met her foreign language requirement, as well as her performing arts requirement. Heaving a sigh, she was just glad that a public speaking course fulfilled that performing requirement, as she was fairly certain that if she'd taken a drama class she would have only humiliated herself, and she knew she was almost completely tone deaf, so any sort of music was out of the question.

This left her with almost no options for other electives. She had already taken most of the art classes offered, and those she hadn't taken were only because she'd been so advanced the teachers had let her skip them. Gourmet Foods, Weightlifting, Graphic Design, Leadership, Marketing, and Technology Studies were the only options available to her at this point. Right away she was able to eliminate gourmet foods and weightlifting. She had no desire to spend her time studying how to make cookies, and she had already met her physical education requirements. Despite not actually having taken the class as her entire transcript was fabricated by Hogwarts, Hermione was sure every long minute of that class had been sheer torture for her. She could almost see herself in a frumpy gym uniform that didn't fit anyone right, looking incredibly out of place next to all the well-groomed athletic girls who had other school-issued athletic apparel to wear that actually flattered their figures from being on sports teams since their freshman years. No, weightlifting was not for her.

Graphic Design on the other hand seemed like a viable option. She'd never touched a computer before in her life, even though she had one sitting right there on her desk. From the careful inspection she'd made of her bedroom, she knew she'd won it in an essay competition and it came with a free upgrade every two years until she graduated from graduate school. But that was assuming she got there. Yes, Graphic Design would work. Reading the description of Technology Studies, she eliminated that class as well upon realizing it wasn't a computer class but more of a construction class. That left Marketing and Leadership. Her counselor's advice to take some leadership roles kept echoing in her head, and on a whim she chose Leadership. Then she reread the course description and discovered that admission to the course required an application, due the previous spring. Marketing it would have to be.

Confident that she'd finally finished her class schedule, she set all of her school papers on her desk and turned on her computer. If she was going to take a class that relied on her knowledge of computers, there was no time like the present to start figuring it out.

She had discovered the user manuals filed neatly in one of her desk drawers and was just mastering use of the mouse when a her mother knocked on the open door, and came in with a tray in her hands and a thick leather book under one arm.

"Can we talk?" she asked. Hermione nodded, and motioned for her mom to sit down on the bed. Her mother set the tray down to reveal a plate piled high with chocolate chip oatmeal cookies and two glasses of milk. Hermione moved from her desk to sit next to her mom. "I'm sorry I lost my temper," Her mother began. Hermione gave her a reassuring smile, and almost wished she'd been there for the argument so she could be more sincere in accepting the apology. "I dug out my high school yearbook," she offered, running her fingers over the cover of the book that now sat perched primly on her lap. Hermione shifted the tray of milk and cookies to the trunk that sat at the foot of her bed so that she could sit next to her mother. "I want you to understand that I realize you and I are different people. I just want to show you who I was in high school, and maybe we'll understand each other a little bit better." Hermione nodded and her mother opened the book.

They stared at the pictures, Hermione seeing all of this for the first time drunk it in almost in awe while her mother gazed longingly with a small smile on her face as she fondly remembered her high school days. It is one of the strange phenomena in life that some children end up almost as polar opposites of their parents, and Hermione was one of those people. Her mother had probably never had anyone tell her that she was lacking in extracurriculars. A picture of her mother doing some new and different school-related activity was on almost every page. Hermione swore her mother must have been in every club possible, in addition to being head cheerleader, homecoming queen, student body president, and in charge of the spirit committee.

"Is that Dad?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence. A wide smile spread across her mother's face.

"Yes, isn't he handsome?" Her mother ran a finger over his bright smile. He was posed in his football uniform, captain of the team. Her parents were the picture of the all-American dream: High school sweethearts, the quarterback of the football team and the captain of the cheerleading squad, they went to the same college where they stayed in the same roles they'd had in high school, got married a year after they graduated from Harvard, and almost 9 months to the day later, Hermione was born. Their house was built by her father's grandfather and even came with a white picket fence. Hermione couldn't imagine being any more different from them. "I just want you to be happy, Hermione. When you were a little girl, all those dance lessons made you happy so I just thought if you went out for the dance team you might make some more friends at school and get to dance again. But if you're really not interested, then I'll respect your decision," her mother explained. Hermione felt a cold liquid rush through her stomach. Go out for the dance team? Hermione Granger? Everyone at Hogwarts would have a real laugh at that. But wasn't the dance team considered a sport? And hadn't her counselor said colleges liked athletes?

"I'll think about it some more," she said, before she knew what she was saying. Her mother looked surprised, but her next expression told Hermione that she would love nothing more than to be able to say her daughter was on the dance team.

"Don't feel like I'm putting any pressure on you, okay? This really needs to be something you do because you want to do it," her mother quickly informed her. Hermione nodded.

"I know," she said softly. Her mother stood up.

"Well it's awfully late," she observed. She tucked her yearbook under her arm and lifted the tray. "Sweet dreams," she said. Hermione stood up and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek.

"Goodnight," she said. Her mother smiled and left the room. Hermione closed the door behind her and went back to the computer.

* * *

"What do you mean I can't take graphic design?" Hermione gaped at the woman who was entering her course schedule for the next year.

"The course is full," the blonde woman enunciated each word very slowly as though Hermione might be dumb. Hermione took a deep breath.

"What are my options then?" Hermione asked. The woman typed some information into the computer and then scanned the list that popped up.

"Leadership, Technical Studies, or Gourmet Foods," she said, her voice flat.

"I'll take leadership then," Hermione sighed. It would have to do.

"Then I need you to get this form signed. Mrs. Hollins' room is right down the hall," The woman said gesturing. Hermione took the form and headed out the door.

After she left with a copy of her finished schedule, Hermione wandered down towards the gym. The sports teams had set up tables with information about tryouts in the gym foyer. Though she was still unsure about trying out, Hermione figured she had better pick up a copy of the forms just in case. She wandered over towards the dance team table and tried to look casual. Much to her chagrin, there were several girls already at the table. Hermione recognized them as members of the dance team in years past.

"Can I help you?" The petite blonde behind the table asked Hermione, giving her a patronizing smile. The girls around the table all turned to see who she was talking to. When they saw Hermione, it was obvious from the looks on their faces that she was the absolute last person they wanted to be seeing there.

"You're trying out for the dance team?" an indignant voice shrieked. Hermione looked up to see Blaise joining the blonde behind the table. Instead of answering, Hermione busied herself by picking up the sign up sheet on the table.

"Blaise, please," a kind voice interjected. Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to see a blonde-haired woman in a polo shirt standing over her shoulder. For some reason, the woman looked oddly familiar. "Hermione is allowed to try out just the same as everyone," she informed the cluster of girls. "I'm the coach of the team. You can call me Kerry," she told Hermione. "Try-outs start tomorrow at noon. You need to have all of these forms filled out," she said, handing Hermione a packet.

"Here you go," the blonde girl added, passing Hermione a t-shirt. Hermione thanked her, smiled and gathered all of her things.

"See you tomorrow!" Kerry waved goodbye to Hermione. As she was walking away from the table, Hermione heard someone remark, "At least she learned how to dress." Hermione mentally thanked Parvati and Lavender for being so insistent about the clothing. Almost in a complete daze, Hermione made her way to the front of the school.

Her mother was waiting outside when Hermione came out of the school. She waved enthusiastically as if Hermione had not already seen her. Hermione pretended not to have seen the wave, but walked towards the black Lexus anyway.

"It's such a pretty day, I would have driven the Miata but it only has two seats," her mother apologized. Hermione nodded. "Did you get your classes?"

"Graphic Design was full, so I got into Leadership," Hermione shortened the story.

"That's awesome!" Mrs. Granger cooed. "What's the t-shirt for?" she asked. Hermione almost cringed, but she handed her mother the packet of dance team information. "You're going to try out?" Her mother exclaimed. "Hermione, that's great!"

"Mom, shh," Hermione tried to quiet her. She looked around quickly and her stomach flipped over when she saw that Draco had stopped right next to her mother.

"What are you trying out for?" he asked, looking at her. Hermione was at a loss for words, so he craned his neck to look at the papers in her mother's hands. "Dance team? Christ, Hermione, it's about time."

"That's what I've been telling her," Mrs. Granger informed him. "She's been dancing since she was old enough to walk."

"I remember," he raised his eyebrows at Hermione, who was almost in shock. "I've seen her in that stupid Christmas show every single year since she was nothing but a candy cane."

"I know, Draco," Hermione's mother smiled at him. "And now she's finally a snowflake," she said with a dreamy look in her eyes that only mothers get.

"The Nutcracker?" Hermione asked, suddenly realizing what they were talking about. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Hermione," he said as though addressing a small child. "Don't you remember?" he asked her. Hermione bit her lip and crossed her arms as if she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Alright, well, let's get out of here," Hermione's mother interjected. "We'll be late for lunch," she explained.

"I'm starving," Draco commented, opening the back door of the car. Hermione looked at him incredulously, wondering what he was doing. "What? I haven't eaten in the past three hours!" he informed her. Hermione rolled her eyes and got into the front seat, next to her mother.

"You did remember that we're meeting Draco's mother for lunch at the country club, right?" Mrs. Granger asked Hermione, who nodded. "I brought your tennis stuff. I thought you might want to play for a little while. But your bathing suit is in there too, just in case," she told Hermione, gesturing to the bag in the backseat.

"Thanks, Mom," Hermione replied. Tennis and swimming she could handle. She had done those things every summer her entire life. But she definitely had not taken a dance lesson since she was very young, and with tryouts being the very next day she was starting to freak out.

The car ride to the country club was a mercifully short one. Hermione was dying to ask Draco how he had gotten his memory to work so fast. Hers was working, but it took her almost twice as long to remember everything that Draco did. All she had to do was wait for the right opportunity.

Fortunately, she did not have to wait very long. Their mothers headed off to the restroom almost immediately after they had ordered their lunch.

"How are you doing this?" Hermione whispered to him, leaning over the table so he could hear her.

"Doing what?" he asked, leaning back in his chair. "Your hair is getting in the butter," he added. Hermione sat up and wiped the butter from her hair. She took a knife and scraped that part off the butter and wiped it on her plate.

"How do you remember all this stuff? My memory is so slow," she informed him.

"Practice, Hermione," he said, sitting up straight so he could keep his voice low. "Whenever you have a spare second, try to remember random things. Like, summer vacations," he suggested, pausing for her benefit. "Do you remember that summer we all went to Cancun?" he asked. Almost as soon as he said it, she remembered it.

"Yes," she replied cautiously. "And our fathers got arrested on the golf course?"

"No! That was Hawaii. Cancun was the time when our mothers got drunk and knocked over the ice sculptures at the breakfast buffet," he corrected. Hermione sunk into her seat. "You'll get it," he consoled her. "It's probably just all that muggle blood of yours that slows things down," he joked. Hermione bit her tongue and looked away. She was not going to start fighting with him in the middle of the restaurant. Thankfully, their waiter appeared with the salads and she had something to distract her.

* * *

"Hermione, wake up!" Mrs. Granger said cheerily, coming into her daughter's room. Hermione rolled over in her bed and looked at the clock through heavy eyelids. "Come on, out of bed," Mrs. Granger yanked the covers back.

"I'm up," Hermione protested. Really, she had no intention of getting out of her bed. Her stomach was tied in knots, and she really just felt like crying.

"I know you're nervous, but you need to get up now so you can eat something," her mother prompted, handing her a bathrobe. Hermione grudgingly wrapped herself up and padded down the stairs after her mother.

After forcing down some toast and yogurt, Hermione made her way back up the stairs and got dressed. She found a leotard and tights in one of her drawers, and slid some sweatpants and the t-shirt they had given her the previous day on top of that.

"Want me to braid your hair?" Mrs. Granger offered, tapping on the door. Hermione nodded and sat down in her chair. "You're going to do just fine, Hermione. Just take some deep breaths and pretend like no one is watching," she reassured. For some reason, Hermione knew that it would not be as simple as her mother made it sound.

* * *

"Hermione Granger?" Kerry stuck her head out the cafeteria door and surveyed the collection of girls sitting in the hall. Hermione made her way past everyone and into the cafeteria. She had made it to part two of the tryout process. The first part had been easy – all one hundred girls were in the room at the same time. The captains had taught them a routine, and they had all danced at one time. Some of the girls clearly had no experience. At the break, the group had been cut down to fifty girls and each girl was being called into the room one at a time.

A table was set up at one end of the room, and Kerry headed for the empty chair. Sitting next to her was Blaise, and on her other side was the petite blonde from the day before. "I think you know Blaise and Stacey, our captains?" Kerry gestured. "Alright, we just want to see you do the routine we taught the group earlier. Are you ready?" she asked. Hermione nodded, and Stacey turned the music on. Hermione took a few deep breaths and focused her eyes on the wall behind the captains.

When she had finished the routine, Kerry motioned for her to come over to the table.

"How long have you been dancing?" she asked. Hermione thought for a second.

"Since I was three," she replied.

"You understand that the dance team is a huge commitment, correct? You will have practice everyday after school, performances at each football and basketball game, and then there's competition."

"I know," Hermione replied. Her heart was pounding. Part of her wanted to walk away and never come back, but the other part was screaming that she knew she deserved a spot on the team.

"I have room for twenty girls," Kerry said. "I will be calling you tonight to let you know if you made the team or not," she informed Hermione, standing up. She shook Hermione's hand. "Have a good day."

"Thank you," Hermione replied. She felt like she had been tricked. Slowly, she walked out of the cafeteria and gathered her belongings.

When she got outside, her mother was nowhere in sight. She went to sit down on a bench, and then saw Draco's mother walking towards her.

"Hermione, your mother asked me to pick you up when I picked up Draco," Narcissa Malfoy informed her. Hermione smiled and picked her bag up. Draco was already waiting in the car, so Hermione got into the back seat. Part of her was relieved that she would not have to recount her tryout for her mother, but that was only until she remembered that her mother was at home getting ready for a dinner party she was throwing.

"Coach G made me a captain," Draco announced as soon as his mother got into the car. She rolled her eyes at him.

"We saw that one coming, didn't we, Hermione?" Narcissa asked her.

"Only for a few miles," Hermione replied.

"Did you make the team?" Draco asked her, turning to look at her. "I heard Blaise was a captain."

"Oh, is she?" Narcissa interrupted. "Well, she'll put in a good word for you, won't she, Hermione?"

"Of course she will, Mother," Draco replied before Hermione could answer.

"The coach is going to call us tonight to let us know who made the team," Hermione replied instead. Draco rolled his eyes.

"She just doesn't want to deal with all of those weepy girls in person," he chided. He turned around to face the front. "Mom, what did you decide about the parking pass?" he asked. Narcissa heaved a sigh.

"Draco, your father and I are still thinking about it," she finally answered. Hermione stared out the window as they drove home. She could care less if Draco got a parking pass or not. For some reason, a memory of Draco showing off his new car popped into her head. He had gotten a brand new Jaguar convertible for his birthday the year before, and insisted that he drive it everywhere until a few weeks ago when it had been vandalized at the mall. It was currently being repaired, which explained why he needed rides everywhere.

Hermione had not even thought to ask about her own car. Did she have a car? Hermione looked down at her hands. No, she had no need for a car, and supposed she had never expressed any desire to have one. Much to her great displeasure, Draco had been given the task of transporting her to and from school the previous year.

"Holy Shit," Draco commented suddenly from the front seat. Hermione looked up at him, expecting his mother to scold him for his language, when Narcissa looked out the window to see what he was looking at.

"Holy Shit!" she echoed, catching a glimpse of whatever Draco was looking at. Hermione followed their line of sight out the car windows to her house.

"Oh my god," she remarked. Suddenly she felt like sinking into the ground. The entire driveway was full of white vans, some for catering and some for rentals. In front of the house, the street was almost blocked off by delivery trucks. Narcissa guided the car expertly through the mess and parked as soon as she saw an open spot. Before Hermione could protest, both Narcissa and Draco had hopped out of the car and were headed toward the house.

"Your mother is going to need some help," Narcissa informed Hermione. Draco heaved a sigh. "Can it!" Narcissa snapped, making Draco close his mouth before he could complain.

They found Hermione's mother almost immediately upon entering the house. She was standing in the kitchen with a crowd of about twenty people around her, and she looked completely at ease.

"Hermione!" She exclaimed, seeing her daughter. "How'd it go?" she asked. Hermione shrugged. "That's fantastic! Karen brought you a dress; it's on your bed. Hors d'oeuvres are at five," she rattled off this information as though Hermione were one of the people she had to give orders to. "Narcissa, I'm so glad to see you. Can you go supervise the tables? I really don't know if he understood a word I was saying," Mrs. Granger turned her attention away from Hermione, who took the opportunity to slip away. Karen, she recalled, was her mother's personal shopper. If her memory served her correctly, she was much better than the last two her mother had been using. Hermione shook her head in disbelief. And Draco had been worried about life without house-elves?

She opened the door to her room and almost instantly felt relieved. It was much quieter up here, far away from all the hustle and bustle of party preparations. What she wanted most of all right now was to take a nice long bath. As she pulled her shirt off, she moaned slightly, her sore muscles starting to scream at her. Though her memory might have been trained to dance, her body certainly was not used to it. Hermione turned around and unceremoniously tossed her t-shirt into the hamper.

"Knock, knock," Draco said, pushing the door open just then. Instinctively, Hermione's arms flew up to cover her chest. They then fell to her sides as she remembered she still had her leotard on. "Calm down, it wouldn't be the first time," he remarked.

"What?" Hermione asked. Draco rolled his eyes.

"You haven't been practicing, have you?" he scolded. "Christmas Vacations. Go," he said, as though he were giving her a writing prompt. Hermione closed her eyes for a minute, and saw herself at a ski lodge. Her eyes flew open a half second later. New Year's Eve. Champagne. Hot Tub. She blushed, and Draco smirked.

"Hermione, our mothers have been best friends since we were born. That means you and I have spent a great deal of quality time together. It's like you and I are best friends by default," he explained. Hermione could not see a reason to argue with that logic. "Go take your bath, I'm just going to check my email," he flashed her a brilliant white grin. Hermione was glad she had at least figured out what email was. She took her sweatpants off and tossed them in the hamper as well. Just as she was pulling a pair of panties out of her drawer, Draco gasped in mock horror.

"I know you've seen my underwear before," Hermione retorted. One of her parents' parties was flashing in her mind. At this remark, Draco snorted.

"You're awfully fond of showing them off once you've had a bit to drink," he defended himself. "And that's not what I was going on about," he added.

"Well, what's the matter then?" Hermione asked.

"You haven't got instant messenger," he informed her. Hermione sighed. He had beaten her again.

"No, but you can put it on there if you want," she tried to pretend like she knew what he was talking about.

"Well, if you don't know what it does, then why bother?" he asked. She rolled her eyes.

"Fine, be a jerk," she sighed and headed for the bathroom.

Once she was soaking in a nice warm bath, up to her ears in bubbles, Hermione tried to remember some important things. She took Draco's advice and started small with little things like vacations, and holidays. So far she had seen that Draco was right – their families did almost everything together. Another crucial bit of information she had gathered was that there was usually alcohol involved in their family get-togethers, and she and Draco were not shy about helping themselves. Which brought her to the point that she had been the most curious about, but had also been dreading.

"_Alright, Sex_," she thought. At first, all she got were little flashes of movies and Sex Ed classes. "_Am I still a virgin, then?" _ she wondered. Nothing happened, so she took that to mean yes. Well, that was a relief; at least she had never slept with Draco. At this thought, images of her and Draco sharing the same bed on vacations popped into her head. She almost laughed out loud.

But just because she was still a virgin did not mean she had not done other things with Draco. _"First Kiss,"_ she thought, and almost as she had predicted, a memory of kissing Draco popped into her head. His lips were soft, and he had tasted like bubble gum. It was a sweet memory that brought a smile to her face. They had only been twelve or thirteen, so it had been an innocent kiss. _"You were friends then," _her inner voice told her.

That assertion brought her to her next question. If she and Draco had spent so much time together, why did they still act like enemies? What had happened to ruin their friendship? Almost instantly a memory came flooding back to her, and her stomach flipped upside down. She could tell this was a memory that haunted her often, because it was so vivid.

Hermione was standing in the school cafeteria, with her lunch tray. It must have been her first year of middle school. She was looking at Draco, surrounded by kids she did not know. Normally, he would make room for her and insist she be included in everything he did. But today he just ignored her, even when she called his name.

"Who is that?" a girl asked him. He did not even look at Hermione.

"No one, just ignore her," his words had hurt her worse than she had ever been hurt before. Her jaw had dropped, and she felt her eyes welling up with tears. She just looked down at the ground and dumped her lunch in the nearest garbage can. Ever since that day, Hermione had eaten lunch in the library, hiding behind the books. She had been far too embarrassed to tell her mother, so until she got to high school, she just pretended like she had a bunch of new friends to eat lunch with.

Hermione brushed a tear from her cheek, surprised that such an old memory could still hurt her so badly. "_He's never really apologized for it,"_ she reminded herself. _"Have I ever told him how much that hurt?" _she asked herself. No response came, so she assumed that was another no.

A sharp knock on the door jilted her from her world of memories. She sat up straight in the tub and looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost three, so it could not be her mother's stylist yet.

"Hermione?" a muffled male voice called.

"Yes, Draco?" she was covering her chest now, unconsciously.

"I hate to be a bother, but can I come in?" he asked. Something about the way he said it made Hermione relent. She pulled the curtain around the tub and unlocked the door. It came flying open so fast her arm was almost snapped in two. She pulled it back into the tub with her and rubbed it. Before she knew what was happening, she could hear the unmistakable sound of someone peeing in the toilet right next to her. "_Oh gross,"_ she thought, and sank far enough into the tub that her ears were covered. For some reason, it had not occurred to her that Draco might actually need to use the bathroom.

Once she felt she had given him enough time to leave, she leaned forward and opened the drain. Standing up, she reached her hand around the curtain to grab for her towel. Finally, her hand closed around the soft terrycloth and she dried herself off before wrapping up in it.

She stepped out of the tub, and almost ran right into Draco. He handed her the bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, not really knowing what else to do.

"Thanks," she replied, after a long awkward pause. They both just stood there for a second before Draco decided he had better leave. Hermione locked the door behind him and towel dried her hair after putting on her underwear and the bathrobe.

When she emerged, Draco was lying on her bed, reading the little notes she had made on the packet from Madam Meurteuil. Hermione was not really sure what to do, so she just sat down at her dressing table and started brushing her hair.

"What shampoo do you use?" Draco asked suddenly. Hermione looked up at his reflection in the mirror.

"I dunno, whatever was in the bathroom," she shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

"It smells good, I can smell it from here," he informed her. She shrugged again and pretended to be very interested in a rather frustrating tangle in her hair.

There was a quick knock at the door, and then her mother came flying in.

"Oh good, you're out of the shower!" Mrs. Granger remarked. "Oh, hello, Draco," she seemed surprised to see him in Hermione's room. "Uh, Hermione, this is Mindy, she's training under Fredericka. She'll be doing your hair tonight," Mrs. Granger turned to Draco. "Draco, I think your mother will be leaving soon to get ready. We'll see you again later," she told him pointedly. He flashed her a grin, and tucked the packet under Hermione's pillow before he left the room.

"What was that all about?" Mrs. Granger asked Hermione, in reference to the packet. Hermione shrugged.

"That was just an old paper I wrote last year," she lied, refusing to meet her mother's eyes. "What do you want to do with my hair?" she tried to change the subject. Mindy stepped forward.

"Just something simple, like a French twist or a bun will suffice," Mrs. Granger waved her hand dismissively. "Hermione, I'm not sure it's entirely appropriate for Draco to be in here while you're in your bathrobe," she gave her daughter a look that plainly said she was fishing for some information.

"Nothing was going on, Mom," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Draco and I are like brother and sister," she reminded her mother.

"Well, keep the door open from now on," Mrs. Granger admonished. "I'm going to go get ready." And with that, she left Hermione alone with Mindy.

* * *

One hour later, Hermione emerged from her room wearing a short black dress. The top half of her hair had been swept up into a bun, while the rest had been curled upwards at the end. Glancing in the mirror in the hallway, she had to admit that Karen had done a good job picking out her outfit. Hermione timidly pushed open the door to her mother's bedroom and peered inside.

Her mother was sitting on a stool surrounded by three attendants, one doing her hair, another doing her makeup, and the last one holding small black trays in front of her mother. Hermione stepped into the room, wondering how she would get used to this lifestyle.

"Oh, Hermione, you look fantastic!" Her mother gushed. "Any word on the dance team yet?" she asked. Hermione felt like screaming, but instead shook her head no. "Rats. Oh well, come and pick out some jewelry to wear."

With those words, the attendant with the black trays turned to Hermione and pulled a fresh tray out of his box. Despite her best attempts, Hermione's eyes widened when she saw the contents of the tray. Sitting before her, nestled in black velvet, were several very sparkly, very expensive, diamond necklaces, each with a pair of earrings to match. She looked at each necklace in turn before choosing the one in the middle. The attendant fastened it around her neck and handed her the earrings.

"Let's see," her mother insisted. Hermione turned to show her mother, who nodded approvingly. "You've always had such good taste in jewelry," she commended, standing up. She headed for the other side of the room where she slipped into her dress. "Ready, Hermione?' she asked.

"As ready as I'm going to be," Hermione admitted. Her mother smiled.

"Well, let's get this party started," Mrs. Granger proclaimed, throwing the doors to her bedroom wide open.

* * *

After the party was in full swing, and everyone had eaten, Hermione found that she was having no trouble pretending she was used to this sort of an affair. All she had to do was walk around and people approached her. Hermione was almost grateful to her mother for throwing this party because her memory had improved vastly as each guest asked her if she remembered some different random event that had happened. Her memory was becoming quite sharp.

She had just bid a lovely evening to Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery, an elderly couple that lived down the street, when Draco appeared at her side. He pushed a champagne flute into her hand.

"Want to dance?" he asked her. She raised her eyebrows at him suspiciously. He sighed, "Didn't think so," and took a sip from his own glass of champagne. "I thought I'd rescue you anyway," he informed her. "Chivalry's not entirely dead, you know."

"I appreciate it," Hermione smiled at him. "You look nice," she offered.

"Thanks," He said dryly. "Can-"

Draco was interrupted by someone in a uniform tapping Hermione on the shoulder. She turned, but did not recognize the man. He held out a portable phone to you.

"The phone is for you," he said in an accented voice. Hermione took it and headed for the veranda.

"Hello?" she said tentatively into the phone. She had no idea who would be calling her, except-

"Hermione? It's Coach Kerry," the familiar voice bubbled. "I was just calling to let you know that you've made the dance team."


	4. Owl Post

A/N: I probably won't post the next chapter until I get at least thirty-five reviews. And I'm not talking two of you leave me a bunch of reviews, I mean go get your friends to read this. I don't intend to write a story for a small devoted following, and apparently I'm on the alert list of 34 people, so how about we show it? Alright, enough babble. Onwards!

Chapter Four

"Mom," Hermione was frantically trying to get her mother's attention. Victoria Granger was deep in conversation with Narcissa and several other ladies from the country club. "Mother!" Hermione tried again. She waved her hands slightly, trying to catch her mother's eye.

"Hermione!" Narcissa remarked, suddenly looking up. Hermione smiled.

"Finally, I've been trying to catch someone's attention," she informed the ladies, who were all now staring at her. Mrs. Granger beamed at her.

"You all remember my daughter," she gestured towards Hermione, as though they might have forgotten who she was. The ladies smiled at her. "What is it, dear?" Mrs. Granger asked, seeing the distressed look on Hermione's face. Hermione was now having an internal debate about giving her mother the news in front of everyone, or asking her mother to come aside. She had just decided to tell her mother the news right there, since she assumed that her mother would just come right back and tell them all anyway, when a large, snowy white owl landed on her shoulder. The women screamed, and Hermione jumped.

"Get that thing out of here!" Narcissa shrieked. Everyone in the room was suddenly staring at Hermione. Not knowing what else to do, Hermione began screaming as well and flailing about. After all, Hedwig had planted herself on Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione ran for the verandah, where she could easily access the garden and get some privacy. Once she was out of everyone's sight, she stopped screaming and quickly untied the letter from around Hedwig's talon.

"Come back once everyone has left," she whispered. Hedwig gave a sharp hoot as though she was displeased but understood. Descending to the garden, Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

"Well done," Draco's voice cut sharply into her thoughts. She turned to see him descending the marble staircase from the veranda with two full glasses of champagne in his hands. "I thought you would appreciate a refill. Care to take a stroll?" he offered, insisting she take the glass. Hermione took a gulp off the top and let the warm taste flood her mouth. It was a different sensation than she was used to, never having had more than the occasional sip of wine at dinner. Or at least not in her real life.

"That was humiliating," Hermione confessed, as they headed off under the tree-lined path. Ordinarily this path would have been comforting to Hermione, but tonight the trees had been strung with tiny white lights which made them look gaudy. It was as if there was no escaping the party and the embarrassing event that had just taken place. "I almost hope Harry gets in trouble for this," she added. Draco snorted.

"I'm sure Dumbledore will just get him out of it," he remarked. Hermione had to admit he was probably right. "Everyone will forget all about it in a few days," he said as though trying to comfort her. Draco looked at her for a few seconds and then motioned for her to sit down on a nearby bench.

"Hermione?" Draco asked after a while. She craned her neck to look at him. "What happened to us? I mean, we used to be like best friends," he seemed to be very carefully choosing his words, and for some reason, Hermione felt herself getting angry. "Don't get all mad like you normally do, can we please just talk about this?" he pleaded. Hermione took a deep breath and reminded herself that she had never given Draco a chance to really apologize for his actions.

"Draco, I," she could not even get a word out before she started to cry. He stared at her, bewildered for a minute, and when he realized she was unable to speak, he pulled her into his arms. Oddly enough, she felt comfortable there.

His embrace was not at all what she would have expected – some cold unfeeling nearly touching someone else but not really type of hug is how she always imagined Draco would hug someone. Instead, his arms were warm, and he smelled like expensive aftershave. Comforting, like the memory of her first kiss. Their first kiss.

"Do you remember seventh grade?" Hermione asked him, sitting up straight so she was not touching him anymore. Her voice sounded sharper and more wounded than she had expected it to.

"Vaguely, why?" he asked.

"Because, before seventh grade we were friends," she reminded him. He nodded, as though she were just restating what he had already said. "You were my first kiss, Draco," she added softly.

"Is _that_ what this is about?" He asked, all of a sudden shocked. Hermione took another deep breath.

"No, that is not what this is about," she snapped at him, jumping to her feet. She began to shout, "This is about the first day of seventh grade when you told all of your new friends that I was no one and they should ignore me. This is about how for the rest of middle school I ate lunch in the library every day because I had no friends. This is about how for my entire high school career until now I have been nothing but a joke to you and your friends and the rest of the school.

"This is about how you were supposed to be my best friend, supposed to be there for me, but instead you just let everyone think that I was the biggest dork alive. How for five days a week for the past six years I have been that freak with her nose in a book, and then for the rest of the time I was Hermione, the girl you pretended to be friends with just because our parents were watching. What did I ever do to deserve that, Draco? Please, explain it to me, because for the past six years I have been wondering what I ever did to make you pretend like I was no one," Hermione finished, her voice barely above a whisper, straining to be heard above her tears. She took a ragged breath and practically collapsed into a sitting position on the ground.

Draco was silent for a long time, and Hermione began to wonder if he had left. She could not bring herself to look up and make eye contact with him, so instead she just cried quietly to herself and stared at the grass. After she decided he had to have left, she looked up, only to see him still sitting there staring at her.

"Have you been holding on to that for all this time?" he asked. Hermione nodded, crying louder. "Hermione, I had no idea you even heard me say that back in the cafeteria in seventh grade, let alone that you were eating in the library," he told her. She just shrugged. "This is so weird," Draco said suddenly sounding annoyed. Hermione looked up at him, confused.

"What is so weird?" she asked him. She had been expecting an apology.

"That none of this actually happened. All of that is just a magic-generated memory but somehow you're sitting on the ground ruining your Louis Vuitton party dress, mascara streaming down your cheeks like all of this actually happened to you," he explained. Hermione felt her teeth clench together and she scrambled to her feet. She tossed down her empty champagne glass and walked away.

Hermione was livid. Of course, she should have expected as much from his royal highness, who was constantly tormenting her, in both her lives. At least at Hogwarts he had not carried on the pretense of being her friend, no matter who was present at the time. Here he was required to act like her friend as long as their parents were around.

Draco watched Hermione storm off and stared at the broken shards of her champagne flute. He could almost hear her mother's voice in his head, appraising the cost of the glass.

"That was a Waterford crystal champagne flute," he remarked to himself. He sighed, drained the contents of his own glass and tossed it down next to Hermione's. At a slow jog, he quickly caught up with Hermione who was now crying angry tears.

"I should have known better than to tell you that," she said as soon as he appeared in her peripheral vision. She heaved a heavy sigh. "I should have known that was the only reason you were being nice to me," she added, shaking her head.

"That's not fair," he defended himself, "You can't possibly presume to know what goes through my mind."

"I don't care what goes through your mind," she snapped. "You think all those times you called me a mudblood didn't hurt? You think all the joking and the teasing was just fun and games for me? Well, think again, Malfoy. This is not just about some invented incident that never actually happened. Not for me."

"Okay, okay," he stopped her before she could catch her breath and move on. "Look, how about we call a truce?" he offered.

"Why would I want to do that?" she refuted. "I don't understand, Malfoy, why on earth would you want to do that?"

"Because it's so much more work for me if I have to be two-faced all the time," he replied honestly. "If we call a truce, then we can get along all the time. I'll stop calling you names and making fun of you, and you can call me by my first name."

"No way," Hermione refused. "I won't do it just because it makes your life easier. You are such a self-centered little prick," she began. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Fine, no truce. But that was my final offer, Hermione. I don't think you realize how much you needed that. There was a lot more in it for you than no more name calling," he informed her. He could see that she was struggling to think of what he possibly had to offer. "Just so you know, our parents are going to buy us a parking space – to share, because your parents are getting you a car for making the dance team. That's going to make life awfully rough isn't it? And while we're on the subject of the dance team, I hope you don't expect that just because the coach likes you, you'll be a hit with the other members as well, not to mention the rest of the school. So, Hermione, I hope you thought this over carefully. Let's not forget who helped you figure out your memory issues as well," he concluded, before walking away.

Hermione watched his retreating backside, feeling somewhat dizzy. He was right, she did need him. But if he thought she would willingly admit that, he was wrong.

"I call the shower first," he called back to her. The words did not even register. What the hell was he talking about now? Hermione started to walk after him.

"Draco," she called out, hoping she could make him reconsider. He kept walking, but she noticed his pace slowed. She started to jog a little, and soon caught up with him. "Draco, can we please-" his sudden icy glare at her made her stop talking.

"We can talk later," he shot out of the side of his mouth. Hermione followed his line of vision and realized that their mothers were headed straight for them. She heaved a sigh and fell in step with Draco, trying not to look as miserable as she felt.

"Oh, Hermione!" Victoria Granger called out. Both she and Mrs. Malfoy had glasses in their hands.

"Our mothers are trashed," Draco remarked, not too loudly. Hermione sighed.

"Dessert is being served, it's your favorite," Mrs. Granger informed her daughter, coming up to the two of them, and taking Hermione's wrist as though to drag her back to the house. Hermione could smell the alcohol on her.

"Hermione, you look awful," she observed, looking Hermione over. "What on earth have you being doing?"

"We just went for a walk," Hermione replied, smoothing her hair. Her mother started to protest, but then a very knowing look came over her face.

"A walk? Well, isn't that romantic, Narcissa?" Victoria hinted. Mrs. Malfoy burst into a fit of giggles, which prompted Mrs. Granger to do the same. Hermione sighed and Draco turned to her, giving her a quick once-over.

"Here," he offered her his handkerchief. Hermione bit her lip so as not to laugh at him for being dorky enough to carry one. She wiped her eyes, and handed it back to him. He sighed, and pulled her towards him, gently but with enough force that it could not be misinterpreted as a friendly gesture of any sort. Very gently, he took his finger and, covering it with the cloth, wiped at the mascara streaks under her eyes.

A chill ran down Hermione's spine as he did this, and she looked up at him with wide questioning eyes. He stared back into her eyes with no abandon, his gaze not cool like she had expected it would be but full of emotion that almost shocked her. But he looked away before she could decide what emotion it was.

"We don't want to miss dessert," he commented, heading back toward the house. "It's almost been an hour since I last ate," he added. Hermione followed him, but then remembered that she had something to tell her mother.

* * *

"Can I have everyone's attention for just a moment?" Victoria Granger was standing on a chair in the middle of the ballroom. Hermione was sitting at her feet, seven shades of dark purple. A hush fell over the room, and soon everyone was focused on the two of them. "I just wanted to thank you all for coming tonight, it's been so good to see you all again," she paused for drama before going on. "I have a very special announcement to make tonight," she paused again, motioning for Hermione to stand up as well. Hermione obliged, but stayed on the ground. "My daughter, Hermione, made the dance team tonight," she announced to everyone in the room, who immediately burst into polite applause. Mrs. Granger held up her hand.

"So as a special treat," she paused, and pulled on Hermione's arm. "Get up here," she admonished. Hermione sighed and stood up on the chair next to her mother, wishing the ground underneath it would just open up and swallow her whole. "As a special treat, my husband and I have decided to give Hermione her very first car, for making us so proud," Victoria pushed a set of car keys with a little pink bow on them into Hermione's hand, and then gave her a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. The entire room applauded some more, and then Mrs. Granger pushed Hermione away. "Go take it for a spin, it's in the other garage," she whispered.

Hermione hopped down from her chair and headed off. She could not help smiling, despite her embarrassment at being attacked by an owl and then presented with a car in front of all these people she barely knew.

She let herself out the garage door and across the driveway to the detached three-car garage on the opposite side. Punching in the security code, the doors opened to reveal three shiny cars. In the center space was her new car, a brand new Mercedes-Benz convertible with a pink bow on the hood. She knocked the bow off and hurriedly got inside it. The top was already down, so Hermione just pulled out of the garage, something that was slightly tricky to accomplish as a small crowd of people had gathered to see her present.

Draco stood on the other side of the car, his arms folded across his chest.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, obviously a little bit jealous at the attention she was getting. Hermione grinned widely at him and shook her head no. She was not going to let anything ruin her first ride. Giving the crowd a regal wave, she sped off out of the driveway and down the street.

When she returned about thirty minutes later, she was pleased to see that the party was starting to break up. Not that her mother would be done partying until the sun came up.

"How was it?" Draco asked, as soon as she came back into the kitchen. She could not keep from smiling.

"Fabulous," she admitted, even though she had not wanted to share any of it with him.

"That's good," he allowed. "Here," he handed her a glass of champagne, which she accepted.

"Thank you," she said, taking a sip. She stood there with him for a bit, hoping he would bring up their earlier discussion, but he did nothing of the sort.

"I had Consuela save you some dessert," he said after a while. Hermione raised her eyebrows. "It's in the fridge," he motioned towards the largest of three refrigerators that lined the wall of the room. She crossed the room and opened the door to find a fountain of chocolate fondue, as well as a platter of strawberries and cheesecake for dipping in it. Her eyes widened and she pulled both things out of the refrigerator.

"Thank you," she said emphatically. He nodded, and helped himself to a strawberry. Hermione had not realized how hungry she had gotten in the past few hours, but she was extremely grateful for the fondue.

"Well, isn't this cozy," Narcissa cooed, coming into the kitchen just then. She grabbed a strawberry and took Draco's glass of champagne away from him. "I told you that you'd had enough," she reminded him threateningly.

"Look who's talking, Mother," Draco retorted. She ignored his comment and drained the glass.

"We're staying here tonight. You certainly can't drive us home," she said decisively a few moments later. Hermione shot Draco a questioning look, but he just rolled his eyes.

"Remember, I called the shower first," he said to Hermione before he dropped the last strawberry back onto the platter and walked away. Narcissa looked at it briefly and then picked it up and dipped it in the chocolate.

* * *

Hermione locked her bedroom door behind her and quickly changed into her pajamas. She opened her window to let Hedwig in and then sat down on her bed to read her letter. The envelope was really thick and when she opened it, three folded papers fell into her lap.

The first was a letter from Harry, talking about his classes and explaining that he had sent the Daily Prophet to her because there was an article in it about her Muggle Studies class. The next was a letter from Ron, saying almost the same thing as Harry's – classes were boring, Quidditch was going well, and they hoped she was doing alright. Hermione set these aside and unfolded the Daily Prophet to find a large picture of Madam Meurteuil under the heading "Playing Muggles."

The beginning of the article talked about Madam Meurteuil, and the project itself. Hermione skimmed this section, as she knew all of that information by heart. She noticed that Harry had starred a section, so she skipped down to the asterisk and began reading:

_But how will this feat be accomplished convincingly? Meurteuil has convinced the Ministry of Magic to let her use one of Magic's most large-scale and complicated memory spells of all time. The spell is known only as Memory Spell 17 because it is only permitted for use under special circumstances requiring months of paperwork and an appearance before the full Wizengamut. The spell is more complex even, than those used for the Quidditch Cup. _

_ In order to work properly, twenty wizards must be on duty at all times in each of the countries the students have been deployed to, as well as in the home country. This means there are forty wizards currently on task in our Ministry. How Meurteuil managed to convince the ministry that this was a worthy enough cause to spare 40 of their best wizards at all hours of the day is yet unknown. _

_The spell modifies the memory of all those that come in contact with the children instantly so to the best of their knowledge, they have always known each other. The students however, must work a little harder to remember detail, though a vague recollection is already present. _

_While they are completing this project, the students will be living in the lap of luxury, something Meurteuil felt was essential to the cause. "If they have to struggle, they won't learn anything," she explained. The students are also keeping their own names, another way to make the transition easier as having to remember to respond to a different name would almost definitely cause trouble. As far as their families are concerned, the children will be living with projections of their real parents, but any siblings will be omitted. Further details about the spell are currently unavailable to the general public. _

_ "Imagine if that information fell into the wrong hands," Arthur Weasley told us yesterday afternoon. "Someone might interfere, and we would not only never see those children again, but it would also expose the entire magical world to the muggle world." As head of the office for Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, Weasley has a personal interest in this project. _

Hermione set the paper down after skimming the rest of the article. She knew this project had taken a lot of effort on Madam Meurteuil's part, but she had never imagined anything like this. Although now that she thought about it, it only made sense. How else would they be able to convince anyone that they were real? A few little memory charms here and there would not be sufficient.

She set the paper down on her desk and sat down at her computer. Ron would appreciate getting a typed letter, and even if Harry had seen a computer before he probably had not ever used one. Quickly, she wrote up a brief response to the two boys and sent Hedwig on her way.

* * *

"You insolent girl! How dare you use that tone of voice with me?" Lucius Malfoy snapped at Samantha Meurteuil. He had come to her office to check on his son.

"I refuse to let you ruin this for me, Uncle Lucius," she replied calmly. "Your son is just fine, everything is going well."

"I won't rest until I can see for myself," Lucius informed her. "You're going to have to let me go."

"Absolutely not," Samantha stood up. "I have everything under control, I don't need you to come along and stick your nose in it. Draco is fine, and you'll see for yourself when he returns in one piece at the end of the school year."

"I'm warning you, Samantha," Lucius stuck a long finger in her face. "If so much as a hair on my child is harmed by your silly little project…if anything goes wrong with this assignment, anything at all, I will have no mercy."

* * *

The next morning, Hermione awoke to see Draco sitting at her desk reading her newspaper article.

"You really shouldn't leave stuff like this lying around," he chided. Hermione grabbed the paper out of his hand.

"Most people knock before they come into my room," she snapped at him. He sighed and turned to the computer.

"You still don't have instant messenger," he remarked disdainfully.

"I thought I told you to put it on there!" she replied sharply. He rolled his eyes, and scrolled through his inbox. Hermione threw her covers back and angrily stormed across the room to the bathroom. To her dismay, she realized upon looking in the mirror that she had forgotten to wash her face the night before so she looked a lot like a raccoon this morning. Scowling at her reflection, she turned the water on.

After she had washed her face and brushed her teeth, Hermione returned to her bedroom to pick out an outfit for the day. Consulting her planner, she realized that she had the day off, so she settled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She put her pajamas in the hamper and made her bed before sitting down to figure out where to keep her letters from Harry and Ron. After a brief sweep of her room, she settled on the trunk at the foot of her bed that usually held extra blankets. She wrapped the newspaper article and letters up in the bottom blanket and closed it all up again.

Through out this entire process, Draco sat quietly watching her. To Hermione's relief he did not offer any snide comments, he just sat and observed which was creepy enough anyway. But now Hermione had run out of things to do in her room since Draco had taken over her computer. So she racked her brain, trying to think of things to do or say, but she was at a loss.

"Look, okay, I overreacted last night," she relented, unable to think of anything else to say to him. "Maybe you have a point. We should just put all of this behind us."

"Forget it," he snapped, "You blew your chance."

"Please, Draco," Hermione could not believe she was begging him. She was not even sure why she cared so much.

"So you're admitting that you need my help with this?" He asked her. "You've realized that you can't handle it on your own, haven't you? Well just give up, cause it won't happen," he informed her, storming away.

"Why, because for a few minutes you felt bad about the way you've treated me?" she called after him. He paused and looked back at her for a minute. Hermione felt her heart pounding in her chest and took a deep breath. Draco turned around and walked towards her until he was standing directly in front of her, close enough that if she just craned her neck a little bit she could-

"Hermione?" Mrs. Granger opened the door to her daughter's bedroom expecting to find her still asleep. When her eyes registered the sight in front of her, she pursed her lips. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she asked.

"Not in the least," Draco responded, not tearing his gaze from Hermione's until he had finished talking. Then he turned to her mother and asked, "Is brunch ready?"

"Yes, please come down now," Victoria responded, holding the door open for them. Draco walked right out of it, and Hermione followed, not wanting to hear a lecture from her mother about keeping the door open. "I have a surprise for you," Mrs. Granger called after the two of them.

"Oh no, did we make the paper again?" Draco called up the stairs to her. Hermione turned her head to look up at her mother, who was a few paces behind.

"I thought that would be a surprise," Mrs. Granger responded, sticking her lower lip out a little bit. Hermione looked at Draco, and in the same instant they both broke into a run.

"It's so mine first!" Draco yelled at Hermione.

"But it's my house!" she yelled back, catching her foot on the rug in the hallway and tripping slightly. She steadied herself quickly, not wanting to lose.

"Have a nice trip?" Draco asked her moments before he ran into the doorframe of the kitchen. "Dammit!"

"Draco! We don't talk like that in this house," Mrs. Granger scolded "Besides, we had ten copies delivered this morning," she informed them. "So you'll each get your own copy to keep. Hermione, put some ice on his head before he gets a bruise," Mrs. Granger instructed, sweeping past the two of them into the kitchen.

Hermione tossed a bag of frozen peas at Draco before she headed into the dining room. Narcissa was already at the table, nursing a Bloody Mary. She motioned to the newspapers that sat at the empty seats. Hermione flipped to the style section, and immediately wished she could go back to bed.

"You're shitting me," Draco commented, peering over her shoulder. He was clutching the bag of peas to his forehead.

"Draco, I have a headache," Narcissa moaned.

"I thought it was cute," Victoria said, looking at her own copy of the picture. "Narcissa, when they take their senior portraits we ought to have some done of the two together," she decided.

No one was listening to Mrs. Granger. Hermione and Draco were too busy reading the article that accompanied the huge color picture of Draco consoling Hermione in the garden. The caption talked about the bizarre owl attack, and claimed that she had barely escaped safely. The first part of the article talked about the party and who had shown up wearing up. But then the talk turned to Hermione and her "brush with wildlife,"

"Hermione Granger will be a senior this fall at Kensington Preparatory School, where she is president of the photography club in addition to the president of National Honor Society, and a member of the dance team. The brutal owl attack was soon forgotten when she was presented with her first car – a brand new Mercedes Benz SL55-AMG," Draco read aloud. "Oh, spare me," he sighed, setting his paper down.

"Draco Malfoy, also a senior this fall at Kensington, has just been named captain of the football team, a position he will juggle with his role of Student Body President to which he was elected last fall," Hermione replied, quoting the next paragraph. "Don't even start," she added.

"Who wants waffles?" Mrs. Granger interrupted. Draco took the plate from her and speared the top waffle before taking the second and third as well. He passed the empty plate to Hermione, pretending not to notice he had taken all of the waffles.

"Good, I'll just get a nice hot one from Consuela," she informed everyone at the table and stormed from the room with the serving plate.

"Well, I thought it was a good article," Mrs. Granger commented. "I guess I'm all alone on that."

"When did Hermione become National Honor Society president?" Draco asked, taking a large bite of his syrup doused waffle.

"The letter came yesterday," her mother replied. "I thought she would pick up on that in the article, but she didn't even seem to notice. What's going on with her?" she wondered aloud.

"I have no idea," Draco replied sarcastically, between bites. At that moment, Hermione emerged from the kitchen with a fresh, piping hot waffle covered in strawberries and blueberries. Draco eyed the berries enviously, but remained silent.

"I do love a fresh hot waffle," she announced, taking a bite. But before she could rub it in any more, Draco's cell phone rang and he jumped up.

"Excuse me," he said, flipping it open. "Pansy! I was just about to call you," they all heard him say as the left the room.

"Draco, we're eating," Narcissa called after him. "Please, forgive him," she apologized to Hermione and her mother.

"Your father called," Victoria said suddenly. Hermione gave her mother a questioning look. "He says to tell you that he's proud of you for making the dance team, and on becoming National Honor Society president. And he says he's very sorry he couldn't be there last night to see you in your new car – he picked it out, after all. But he promises he'll be home to see your first performance," she finished. Hermione heaved a sigh.

"Yeah, right," she said under her breath. Vaguely, she could remember a string of broken promises very similar to this one. "I think I'm done eating," she decided, putting her fork down.

"Hermione, you only ate one bite. Don't be ridiculous. I know you're upset at him, but you need to eat," Mrs. Granger told her. Hermione sighed and picked her fork back up.

"That was easier than I thought it would be," Draco announced, returning to the room. "Pansy says hello to everyone."

"How was her trip?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, turning her attention to Draco.

"Just fine, she only spent two thousand dollars cause 'there just wasn't much to choose from,'" he imitated her voice, rolling his eyes. "Are you gonna eat that?" he turned to Hermione, who was picking at her waffle.

"Yes," she replied emphatically, taking a big bite.

"Just checking. You made such a big deal out of loving a hot waffle," he reminded her. She glared at him and took another bite, letting the savory sweet taste linger in her mouth. He flashed her a toothy grin before taking a bit of his own waffle.

They all ate in silence, Draco eating all three waffles and a helping of eggs and bacon while Hermione barely managed to finish her one waffle.

"Well, Narcissa and I have appointments at the spa today, so you two are on your own for dinner," Victoria announced.

"Excellent," Draco pronounced. "May I be excused?" he asked. Victoria motioned for both him and Hermione to go ahead. Hermione headed straight upstairs to her bedroom, clutching her copy of the newspaper. She planned to write a long letter to Harry and Ron about everything that had transpired over the past three days.

* * *

"Knock, knock!" Draco called, barging right into Hermione's room. She jumped about three feet into the air and then turned to glare at him.

"Don't you have somewhere else to go?" Hermione asked him, wondering why on earth he was still milling about.

"Actually, I do, but I thought you wanted to talk. I can just leave if you want," he offered, heading for the door.

"Wait!" Hermione called. She sighed and put down her pen. "Okay, let's talk."

"Alright," Draco shut the door and came to sit on Hermione's bed.

"I've given a lot of thought to what you said about how much I need your help," she began. "And there's a part of me that's really proud, and doesn't want to admit that maybe I do need some help. But there's another part of me that thinks maybe it couldn't hurt to have someone on my side. You're here with Blaise and Pansy, and I don't have anyone. So, maybe I'm too proud to admit that I need you, but I'm not too proud to ask for a friend," she concluded. "Can we be friends?" she asked him, feeling nervous little butterflies dancing around in her stomach.

Draco was silent for what seemed like centuries. He stayed still, not moving or showing any emotion whatsoever. Hermione felt her heart sink, and she felt like crying. She knew she needed some help with this, and Draco seemed like her only option.

A commotion downstairs interrupted the horrifically awkward silence that had fallen between the two of them. Shouts and crashes, along with cries of "catch that thing!" were clearly audible. Hermione and Draco exchanged bewildered glances and Hermione crossed the room to open her door. As soon as it was cracked, a small creature darted into the room, slamming the door behind itself.

"Dobby!" Hermione exclaimed exasperatedly "What are you doing here?"

"Forgive Dobby," the house-elf pleaded. "Dobby had to come and see Miss- eep!" Dobby jumped behind Hermione upon catching sight of Draco.

"Go on, Dobby," Draco pleaded sarcastically. "I'm sure it was so terribly important to see Hermione that you had to break the law to do it."

"Draco!" Hermione snapped. "He's frightened of you, you're not helping," she chided. Hermione knelt down to Dobby so she could hear him talking.

"Miss Hermione must return to Hogwarts. Dobby has overheard some wizards talking about a project, and they mentioned your name," he whispered to her, making very sure that Draco could not hear what he was saying. "They was bad wizards, Miss. Dobby knows."

"You're sure?" she asked. Dobby nodded gravely. "Dobby, you could get in a lot of trouble for coming all the way out here to see me. I really do appreciate your concern," she told him, and then raised her voice. "I have something for you," she told Dobby, crossing to her sock drawer. She pulled out two unmatched socks and gave them to him. "These are your present for risking so much to come and see me," she explained. His eyes grew wide with delight, and he gave Hermione a huge hug.

Just then, Hermione heard voices in the hall. She motioned for Dobby to leave, and rushed to her door, to peek out. Her mother was out there with Narcissa, the cook, and the maid.

"Did you catch it?" Hermione asked them.

"No, did you see it come up here?" her mother replied. Hermione nodded. "Well, Narcissa and I have to be going or we'll be late. You'll give Draco a ride?" she asked. Hermione nodded again, and her mother placed a kiss on her forehead. "Ta-ta," she said, waggling her fingers at Hermione.

"What the hell just happened?" Draco asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Dobby overheard some wizards talking about a project, and they mentioned my name," she informed him. "I don't really think there's anything to be worried about."

"You've got to be kidding me," he said, rolling his eyes. "Now, where were we?" he asked, and then paused as though he were thinking. Hermione bit her lip, waiting for his response. "Oh yes, you were asking me to be your friend, and I was about to say that I can't think of anything more ridiculous," he stated. Hermione's jaw dropped open, and he burst out laughing. "Hermione, you used to be my absolute best friend in the entire world, and now here you are asking to be my friend. It _is_ a bit ridiculous, don't you think?" he asked her.

"I guess so," she admitted, realizing what he was getting at. "So, we're friends again?" she asked. He nodded.

"And I promise not to bail on you again, so long as you promise not to keep any more secrets from me, especially if I've done something wrong," he added. Hermione smiled and nodded, and Draco pulled her into a big hug.

For the second time in two days, Hermione was overcome by how it felt to be in his arms. It felt good, though she was surprised to admit that to herself. He was strong- after all, he played football, or quidditch depending which way you looked at it. There was something comforting about being hugged by him.

"Alright, well, I need to get going. I promised Pansy I would come over for a little fashion show," he said, letting go of Hermione. She nodded and grabbed her car keys, resolving to sit down as soon as she got back and write an extra long letter to Harry and Ron all about the events of the past three days.


	5. First Day of School

A/N: Hoorah! Another chapter completed. Some of you are still confused, and I'm not sure where because you didn't say…so please be specific.

Anyway, I GREATLY appreciate the reviews, thank you so much to all of you who took the time to leave a review. I'm really disappointed that I didn't get the 35 reviews I asked for (I didn't even make 30, I'm at 28 right now), and I was just going to make you all wait until I got them, but I'm going to the beach this weekend so I figured I would be nice.

Now, for next time I want to get at least ten really good reviews – not flames, but those of you who notice something that needs work please feel free to leave constructive criticism. Be sure to point out what you really enjoy about this piece too, please, because I'd like to keep doing it. And I really WON'T post chapter six until I get those, and it is already finished so be sure to get on top of things and I make sure I have ten awesome reviews when I get back on Sunday.

If you submitted a review to chapter four, I reviewed one of your stories (probably the most recent one) and left what I consider to be a fairly solid review in most cases. It's only fair, right?

And now, on with the show:

Chapter Five

"What is _that_?" Ron practically shrieked as he grabbed the newspaper from Harry's hands. But a better view of the scene yielded no comfort, and he began to sputter nonsensically.

"Calm down," Harry said, grabbing the newspaper back. "Here," he passed Ron the ten-page typed letter from Hermione.

"I'll give muggles one thing, this is much easier to read than quill and ink," Ron admitted, still in awe over the idea of a machine you could type things into. Harry's explanation had painted an incredibly bizarre picture in his mind. "Still seems a bit odd, doesn't it?" Ron asked after he read the letter.

"Definitely," Harry agreed. "But as long as things are alright," he decided. Ron shrugged.

"I don't think I'd ever become friends with Malfoy. Not even if our parents became best friends," Ron decided. He picked up the newspaper article. "That's quite a nice car Hermione has," he said enviously, looking at the picture.

"And not cheap either," Harry informed him. "It probably cost about 19,099 galleons, ten sickles, and one knut," he estimated. Ron's jaw dropped.

"I will probably never have that kind of money in my entire life," he mourned, eyeing the picture sadly. Harry shrugged

"There's more important things in life than money," he reminded Ron.

"Like Quidditch practice?" Ginny suggested, coming over to the two of them in her practice gear. Harry and Ron looked at her, then looked up at the clock and jumped to their feet.

"We'll be right out," Harry called back to her as he raced up the stairs to the boy's dormitories.

* * *

Hermione took a deep breath and led into the final pas-de-bourrée sequence. She finished with a clean double pirouette and spun down into the ending pose, which she held until the music ended and Coach Kerry's voice broke the silence.

"Alright, get up. One more time and we're through for the week. I want to see more energy, really focus on getting those high kicks synchronized. After our cool down, Blaise will distribute uniforms and your instructions for next week," Kerry told them, as they walked to their starting formation. She hit the play button and the music swelled to the fast techno beat.

This was the last day of dance camp, a week-long ordeal that had left Hermione exhausted, bruised, and even a little bloody from time to time. She was beyond relieved that it was over. Draco had been right, the fact that the coach thought she was worthy of the spot meant nothing to the other girls on the squad. She found herself having to prove her worth every step of the way. Blaise would barely even look at her.

"Much better!" Kerry called. "Alright, Blaise is going to do her thing, and then you all can get out of here. Remember, school starts Tuesday, and practices will be after school every day at four, even on game days – unless we're traveling," she reminded them. Meanwhile, Blaise was passing around fliers, and calling out names for girls to come and collect the three different uniforms the girls would wear.

Hermione got the last flier and looked it over. There were instructions as to which uniform to wear on what days, practice times, and the list of fall performance dates. At the bottom of the page was an invitation to Blaise's house on Sunday for a team party. She groaned inwardly and hoped her mother would have something else planned for her that day.

"Did everyone get their uniforms?" Kerry shouted. Hermione looked up and realized her name had not been called.

"I didn't," she said, making her way up to where Blaise was sitting.

"Oh, Hermione," Blaise mused, rifling through her sheet of names. "You're at the bottom, I must have missed you. Here, size four," she said, passing her a set of hangers and a duffel bag.

"But, I'm a size six," Hermione corrected. Blaise narrowed her eyes.

"Well, you're going to be a size four now, aren't you?" she asked. Hermione's jaw dropped.

"They tend to run large," Kerry explained. "Try them on and if they don't fit we can order you a bigger set, but it'll take a month or two to get them."

"I'm sure they're fine," Hermione forced a smile. "Thanks, Blaise," she said before turning away. "See you Sunday!"

"Yeah, see you," Blaise repeated.

Hermione took her uniforms and grabbed her water bottle and car keys. She headed outside and found Draco waiting for her on the curb.

"You got out early," she informed him. He nodded.

"They're fertilizing the field," he explained.

"Again?" Hermione asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, the coach wants it to look just right for our first game. Are you hungry?" Draco asked her. She shrugged.

"I could eat," she decided.

"I told some of the boys I'd meet them at that new pizza place. Do you wanna come?" he asked. Hermione started to protest, and he glared at her. "I think you're coming with me," he informed her. "We'll just jet by your house and take a quick shower and then pick up Pansy and be off," he said. Hermione sighed and got into her car. Draco slid into the seat next to her and pushed the button to open the sunroof.

* * *

After a quick shower, Hermione stood in her closet trying to decide what to wear. She had already put on a pair of jeans and a bra and dried her hair, but she could not pick out a shirt. Finally, she settled on a low-cut, short-sleeved, hunter green top with a little bit of detail at the bottom corner.

Draco was waiting in the foyer when she came down the stairs. He was already showered and dressed.

"Took you long enough," he complained. Hermione sighed, and headed for the kitchen.

"Mom, Draco and I are going out with some friends for pizza," she said, breezing through the kitchen.

"Okay," her mother replied, looking up from a catalog, and sounding somewhat surprised. "Stay out late," she called after the two of them.

Hermione drove to Pansy's house quickly, "remembering" the way faster than she had expected to. Draco hopped over his door and headed up the path to the front door. He got there just as it opened to reveal Pansy and Blaise both coming out the door.

"Draco, who's driving the car?" Pansy asked, sounding really stressed.

"Hermione is coming along," he informed the two girls.

"What?" Blaise shrieked, loud enough for Hermione to hear. She lowered her voice. "Why is she coming?" she hissed at Draco.

"Because, she wants to branch out a little. Make some new friends," he explained. "She doesn't have any friends here," he reminded them. Both girls rolled their eyes.

"Why couldn't she join the chess club or something?" Pansy asked.

"Can it, both of you," Draco snapped, spinning around to face them. "You're both upstanding purebloods, start acting like it. If I can get over myself then you two sure as hell can. We're in an adverse situation here, whether you like it or not. This project is very important, especially to Sammie, and that should matter to you, Blaise. It's the least we can do to make it a success," he reminded them, not so gently, turning back around.

"Well, the success of this project is of greater benefit to you than it is to either of us," Blaise muttered under her breath, as she approached the car.

"What do you mean by that?" Draco asked through his teeth.

"Blaise means you have a real good shot at making head boy, so you need a better mark," Pansy interjected, giving Blaise a look.

"Hi, Hermione," Blaise said, trying to change the subject.

"Hey," Hermione said softly. "Hi Pansy," she added.

"Hey, Hermione, cute shirt," Pansy said. Hermione smiled and thanked her as she turned the car back on.

* * *

By the time they got to the pizza place, it was packed from wall to wall with students from their high school. Hermione's stomach was growling, and she wanted to cry when she saw the line extending out the front doors and around the building.

Draco led the group right inside, past the hostess, to a booth in the center of the restaurant where some guys Hermione recognized as being on the football team were already sitting. Blaise slid in first, right next to a tall, tan blond, and Pansy slid in next to her. Draco followed, leaving Hermione to slide in on the end of the other side.

"Hermione, I don't think you've met Josh yet. He just moved here from California. Awesome linebacker," Draco motioned to the guy sitting right next to Hermione. He had sandy blond hair, clear blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his nose. Josh flashed a brilliant white smile at Hermione that rivaled Draco's in megawatts, but won for sincerity hands down.

"Nice to meet you, Hermione," Josh stuck out his hand. Hermione shook it firmly, and smiled at him.

"You too," she replied. "Where in California are you from?" she asked.

"Huntington Beach," he said tentatively, checking for recognition.

"So you surf," Hermione said, figuring it was a safe guess. He grinned again.

"Definitely," he nodded. "Here," he slid his menu to her, as the waitress had neglected to bring enough for everyone. Hermione skimmed it quickly.

The meal progressed without incident, much to Hermione's relief. Before she knew it, everyone was debating over whether or not to order dessert. She stood up and stretched her legs.

"I'm going to the ladies room, order me a slice of cheesecake if she comes before I get back," Hermione instructed Josh, referring to their waitress. Pansy gave Draco a slight shove, forcing him to stand up.

"Come on, Blaise," she said, standing up as well. Blaise slid out of the booth, and Draco sat back down.

"Such girls," Draco said as he rolled his eyes. The guys all laughed and made a variety of comments about how girls always travel in packs. Hermione led the way to the restroom and was surprised to find it completely empty despite the crowded restaurant.

"What the hell are you up to?" Blaise demanded, cornering Hermione as soon as they were safely inside the ladies room.

"I'm not interested in Josh," Hermione held her hands up, as if to show she had no weapons.

"That's not what we're talking about," Pansy corrected her. "What are you doing here tonight?"

"Draco invited me," Hermione responded, realizing what they were after.

"What about the Dance Team?" Blaise demanded.

"I need a sport to round out my extracurriculars. It'll look good on my college applications," Hermione explained. Blaise rolled her eyes.

"So you joined Dance?" she asked.

"Well, you were there for my tryout, I'm obviously not hurting the team," Hermione defended herself. "Look, back off you two. I'm really flattered that you're threatened by me, but I'm not trying to steal your thunder," she said, trying to reason with them. Blaise's jaw dropped open, and Hermione turned and entered a stall.

"Wow," Blaise mouthed inaudibly. Pansy nodded in agreement, and took a powder compact out of her purse. Hermione emerged from the stall and headed straight to the sink to wash her hands.

"So, Hermione," Pansy began. "You're not interested in Josh?"

"Not really," she replied honestly. "He's a nice guy though."

"Aren't they all?" Blaise sighed, touching up her eyeliner. "Well, he seems really interested in you," she commented. Hermione sighed.

"Maybe I'll get to know him a little better and think differently," she offered. "But right now, I'm not interested."

"Are you coming to the party on Sunday?" Pansy asked her suddenly. Hermione shrugged.

"I have to check my schedule," she said. "But if I have nothing else going on. My mom is happier than I am about me making the dance team so I'm sure she'll rearrange everything so I can go anyway."

"Well, it's just going to be kind of casual, so, whatever," Blaise said, shrugging her shoulders. She snapped her purse closed and turned away from the mirror. "Ready?" she asked the other girls.

They returned to the table and ate their dessert. Hermione reached for her purse to put in her share of money, but Josh stopped her.

"No way, I got it," he offered. She shook her head.

"It's alright," she insisted, digging for her wallet. He took her purse away from her and set it on the other side of him

"I insist," he told her, putting a twenty into the pile. She smiled at him, but really wanted to roll her eyes.

"Why don't we all go back to my house and watch a movie?" Blaise suggested. Everyone seemed to agree, so they headed out to their cars. Hermione had not realized how tired she was until she started driving. Then she wished she had made Draco drive his own car so she could just go home.

But instead she led the procession of cars to Blaise's house, which was down the street from Draco's. The houses in this neighborhood were a little bit bigger than Hermione's, which she found hard to believe, and every bit as ostentatious.

She pulled into the driveway, and Draco let Pansy and Blaise out. He got back into the car with Hermione and shut the door.

"We're not staying?" Hermione asked. Draco shook his head.

"Nah. I'm not in the mood to slosh my way out to the golf course tomorrow morning," Draco informed her.

"Golf, tomorrow?" Hermione asked, horrorstruck, as she started to pull out of the driveway. Draco grinned.

"For the menfolk, yes," he replied. "You and your mother will go…shop or something else women do."

"Oh, thank god," Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

"You can say that again. The last time they let you on a golf course you got the golf cart stuck in sand trap and almost killed Lady DeWitt with your backswing," he reminded her. She burst out laughing.

"Do you ever wish some of these things had actually happened?" Hermione asked him suddenly. Draco looked at her quizzically.

"No, not really," he answered truthfully. They were silent for a few moments. "Why, do you?" he asked.

"Sometimes," she admitted.

"Look out!" Draco yelled suddenly. Hermione slammed on her brakes, just in time to avoid hitting Hedwig, who now perched regally on the driver's side mirror. Hitting the window button, Hermione reached out and untied the letter from around Hedwig's ankle.

"That bird will be the death of me," Hermione sighed, putting the letter in her lap and releasing the brake.

* * *

Sunday morning, Hermione awoke with a start. Her mother had left early on Saturday to spend a few days with Hermione's father in the Caribbean, so Hermione had been using the time to work on her homework assignments for Hogwarts. She had finished three Transfiguration essays, one Potions assignment, and two History of Magic essays.

All of Hermione's Hogwarts supplies were kept in a special box under her bed. The box had special charms on it to keep it from being seen by anyone other than Hermione, and to make it so that it could hold all of her things but remain the size of a shoe box in dimension and weight.

Hermione got out of her bed and opened the door to her bedroom. All of the servants had the day off so she was alone in the house, at least in theory. A nervous sensation crept into Hermione's stomach and she walked slowly down the hall to the stairs. Though she had no idea what her father actually did, she knew it was something important and high-profile so the odds of someone trying to break into their house were fairly high.

She went straight for the kitchen upon reaching the first floor. The security system's control panel was on the wall by one of the refrigerators, and if she could just get there she would know right away if the house was secure. But the panel reflected absolutely nothing unusual. Hermione sighed, wishing she had a sneakoscope. She was pretty sure magic was one of the things the security system could not detect.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione resolved to push it from her mind. If someone was in the house from the Wizarding world, odds were that they had come to help her, not hurt her. She turned and headed for the fridge on her right to see what was available for breakfast.

Before she could open the door, the phone rang, startling her enough to make her scream. Once she realized what it was, she felt like an idiot and quickly picked it up.

"Hello?" she asked, slightly out of breath from her scare.

"Hermione!" Draco's voice drawled. Hermione rolled her eyes just hearing him. "I'm looking at my PDA and it says we were supposed to meet at the club for breakfast. Was I supposed to pick you up? Because I didn't write that down," he informed her. She searched her memory. When had she agreed to breakfast with Draco? She had not even seen Draco since she dropped him off Friday night.

"PDA?" she asked, still trying to remember if she had made these plans. She could almost hear Draco rolling his eyes.

"I'll come pick you up then," he said, hanging up the phone. Hermione set the phone back on the receiver and ran upstairs. The country club was only ten minutes away if Draco hit all the stop lights and she was in her pajamas. One thing she did know was that Sunday morning brunch at the country club was a pretty dressy affair.

She quickly threw on a knee-length skirt and some wedges, tying her hair up in a messy bun. A strappy tank top and some lip gloss later she was frantically thumbing through her date book, trying to find where she had written that she would be having breakfast with Draco.

"Ready?" he asked, opening her door. Hermione shrieked and dropped the book on her unmade bed.

"Don't do that!" She implored, grabbing her purse and a sweater.

"Sorry," Draco held his hands up. "You look nice," he offered. Hermione shrugged, and led him down the stairs.

"I'm sorry I didn't meet you there, I honestly don't remember agreeing to this, and it's definitely not in my date book. I must have been having a bad day," she apologized.

"Don't worry about it," he said, opening the passenger-side door for her. She got in and he closed it before jogging around to the other side of the car. Hermione leaned over and unlocked his door. "Thanks," he said getting in. "I just hope we make it back while they're still making waffles. I know how much you just _lo-ove_ a fresh hot waffle," he teased her.

* * *

Hermione awoke Tuesday morning before her alarm went off, before even the sun had risen. She looked at the clock and sighed heavily. Her first day of muggle school since fourth grade. Hermione rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, feeling a little bit excited but mostly just nervous.

Her bedroom door opened a crack, and someone slipped in. Before she knew what was happening, someone was crawling into her bed with her. She sat up quickly and reached for the light.

"Don't!" Draco's voice came. It sounded raw and strangled, not at all like it usually did.

"Draco?" Hermione asked. She tried to see his face in the dark, but her habit of sleeping in the pitch black was working against her.

"Yeah," he sighed. She could feel his body heat radiating towards her, and she realized that she was cold, so she lay back down.

"What's going on?" she asked, suddenly hearing raised voices from down stairs.

"My father," he began. Hermione heard him take a deep shuddering breath. "My father left us this morning," he managed to get out. He turned on his side to face Hermione. "I don't think he's going to come back this time," he admitted, biting his lip.

Hermione could tell he had been crying, and was probably on the verge of tears now. She knew that downstairs Narcissa was probably in hysterics and that Victoria was doing everything in her power to try to calm her down. But the words that haunted her were the last two Draco said. _This time_. Hermione closed her eyes and discovered that Draco's father had a habit of walking on Narcissa every time she did something he did not particularly like.

"He always has before," Hermione reminded him. "Why do you think this time is any different?" she asked. But Draco did not answer. She could feel him crying next to her, and her heart broke. "Come here," she said, reaching out for him. She pulled him towards her so that his head was resting on her chest.

His warm tears soaked straight through Hermione's shirt, but he was emanating so much heat that she barely noticed. It was one of Hermione's favorite things about guys that they radiated heat like little power plants. This simple fact made being in their arms a little like paradise.

* * *

The next thing Hermione knew, her alarm was going off. She reached over and hit the snooze button, and then looked down at Draco sleeping peacefully in her arms. It seemed almost cruel to wake him up. She closed her eyes, trying to decide what to do.

While her eyes were closed, the door to her bedroom opened slowly. Victoria and Narcissa tiptoed into the room, each carrying a tray that almost buckled under the weight of the food piled on top.

"Where's the camera when you need it?" Narcissa whispered. The mothers stifled laughs. Hermione opened her eyes, and her jaw dropped once she saw the breakfast her mother had for her. The mothers motioned for her to be quiet, and they all focused their attention on Draco, who was beginning to stir. Something told Hermione that the scent of food was the waking factor.

Draco opened his eyes, which registered immediately on his mother with his breakfast. A smile crossed his face briefly until he realized where he was. They all laughed as he sat up and scooted over to his side of the bed.

"That was weird," he remarked, looking at everyone. Breakfast was delivered and Draco dug in.

"Don't get crumbs in my bed!" Hermione admonished. Draco rolled his eyes and pretended to dump his orange juice on her.

"We thought we ought to give you a treat for your first day of senior year," Victoria spoke up.

"It's a good one," Draco commended. "I could get used to this," he added pointedly.

"Well, don't get any big ideas," his mother said, rolling her eyes. "Your clothes are downstairs," she informed him. He nodded.

Hermione poured the warm syrup over her waffle, and then spread some butter in it, making a marble pattern.

"After practice, Hermione, take Draco to his house so he can collect some things. He'll be staying with us for a few days," Victoria said. Hermione nodded slowly, looking at Draco, who had dropped his fork and started gaping open-mouthed at his mother.

"For heaven's sake, Draco, shut your mouth," Narcissa snapped. "It's not the end of the world. I'll be back to see your game on Friday," she informed him. He picked up his fork and started eating again, deliberately ignoring her.

Hermione finished her waffle and picked up her tray to carry it downstairs. Her mother stopped her before she got to the door.

"Just leave it, Susie will be up," her mother said. "Go get ready," she prompted. Hermione set the tray down on her dresser and headed for the bathroom.

* * *

When she made it downstairs an hour later, Hermione was dressed in her black dance team uniform – a very short pleated skirt that barely covered her, and a vest that read "Cougars" across it in burgundy bubble letters. With that she wore white sneakers and ankle socks; her hair was pulled half up and curled at the ends, tied with burgundy and gold ribbons. She had a white sweater draped over her arm, in case it got chilly inside the school, and she carried her duffel bag.

Draco was waiting in the kitchen with the mothers, wearing his burgundy football jersey and jeans. When he saw Hermione come into the room, he stood up, the look on his face clearly stating how impressed he was.

"Thank you," Hermione said to him. The mothers turned to look at him, and he dropped the look.

"Uh, you ready?" he asked. She nodded. "You're not seriously taking a backpack on the first day, are you?" he asked.

"I thought I would," she replied. "In case we get textbooks?"

"Just put them in your locker, and at the end of the day they can go in your duffel," he suggested. Hermione shrugged and pulled a thick notebook out of her bag. She put some pens in her purse and set the bag on the table.

"Pictures!" Mrs. Granger said, jumping up. Hermione rolled her eyes, but followed everyone outside to have her picture taken. After about a roll of film, Hermione looked at her watch and decided it was time to leave.

"I'll see you later, Mom," Hermione said, picking up her stuff. Her mother gave her a kiss on the cheek and a big hug.

"Have fun!" Her mother cooed, waving goodbye. Hermione sighed and put her belongings in the backseat of the car. Draco got in the passenger's side and put the top down. Mrs. Granger snapped about a hundred more photos as Hermione pulled out of the driveway.

Hermione found her parking space with no difficulty once she arrived at the school. She and Draco collected their bags and headed for the front doors. Once they got there, they were greeted by a barrage of reporters, snapping pictures and asking questions. Draco put one of his arms on Hermione's lower back and held his other one up as though he were blocking on the field, and pushed a path through for him and Hermione.

"They got worse this year," he commented once they were safely inside the building. Hermione had conveniently forgotten to remember first days of school and was now reminded that the press covered all major school functions because of the number of high-profile parents. Fortunately, the principal, Dr. Osgul, like Dumbledore, refused to let the press inside the school unless it was a major event.

"Good Morning!" Dr. Osgul boomed, as Hermione and Draco got closer.

"Hey, Dr. O," Draco held up his hand in greeting. Hermione waved, and tried to stay close to Draco, who let go of her. The school was a lot different with students inside it. Draco snaked his way through the crowds confidently, although most people got out of his way when they saw him approaching. Most people did not seem to recognize Hermione, so she did not receive any odd looks until they got into the senior hallway.

"Oh, my god," a voice called out. "I thought that was a misprint," she continued. Hermione looked around to see who was talking. A girl in a pink plaid skirt, ripped fishnets, and emo glasses waved to her. "Over here! Hey, remember me?" the girl said. Draco turned to Hermione.

"You gonna be okay?" He asked. Hermione nodded, and he grinned. "Be strong," he warned her, before giving her a quick squeeze.

"Oh no, that did not just happen before my eyes," the girl practically shrieked. Hermione crossed the crowded hallway to greet her friend.

"Violet, calm down," Hermione pleaded, suddenly remembering the girl's name.

"You just hugged Draco Malfoy, the biggest prick in the school. I will not calm down!" Violet screamed. "Not until you tell me what's going on. I haven't heard from you all summer, you've been ignoring my emails, you haven't been on instant messenger, and I know I've left at least thirty messages on your cell. Then I read in the paper that you're on the dance team? Come on, Hermione!"

"Hermione!" a familiar voice called. Hermione looked up to see Josh jogging towards her.

"Josh! Hey," Hermione exclaimed.

"You look great in that uniform," he commented. Hermione laughed.

"Have you met Violet?" she asked. "Josh this is Violet, Violet, Josh. He just moved here from Huntington Beach, California," Hermione added.

"Nice to meet you," Josh said holding out his hand. Violet shook it tentatively.

"You too," she said. "Um, nice jersey."

"Thanks, it's a lot nicer than the ones at my old school," He told the girls. "So, Hermione, I had a great time Friday night, I hope we'll get to hang out again sometime," he said.

"Yeah, sure," Hermione said, smiling at him. She felt like screaming at him to go away.

"Well, I gotta run meet the rest of the team. Good to see you again, and nice to meet you Violet!" he called, walking away.

"You look great in that uniform?" Violet asked. "Gag me, Hermione. Will you please explain?" she begged.

"Okay, so I came to see my counselor and he told me I needed to join a sports team so my extracurriculars would be well-rounded. And you know I dance, so it kind of seemed natural," Hermione shrugged. "Plus, you know my family is really close with Draco's. We had a really long talk and I told him he had to stop being a jerk to me."

"You could have joined tennis or something less, patronizing to women. I mean, really," Violet sighed. "Just don't forget who your real friends are," she shrugged. "I actually think the uniform looks a little snug in some places," she added. Hermione nodded.

"It's a size too small, but the coach said they ran big," she explained, choosing to leave out the details of the story. Violet rolled her eyes. "How was your summer?" she asked.

"Awesome. Senator Johansen was a lot of fun to work for. I get to come back next summer, and bring a friend, if you're interested," she hinted.

"We'll see," Hermione responded. She opened her notebook to look at her schedule. "What are your classes?" she asked.

"If you'd checked your email, you would know," Violet scolded gently, pulling out her Xeroxed copy.

"Hermione!" Blaise's extremely excited voice stood out in the crowded hallway. Hermione looked up from her friend's schedule to see Blaise and Pansy heading straight for her. A familiar nervous sensation started in her stomach. Violet would not like this.

"Hey girls," Hermione greeted them. Blaise thrust a picture envelope into her hands.

"Pictures from Sunday. They're so good," she cooed. Pansy nodded enthusiastically, and Hermione noted that she was wearing a cheerleading uniform. Hermione flipped through the pictures, letting Violet see.

"You guys know Violet, right?" Hermione said, not looking up to see the glare being exchanged between the three of them.

"We've met," Blaise stated matter-of-factly. Hermione handed the pictures back to her.

"They're great, I'll have to get some copies," Hermione said, trying to end the conversation.

"We have first period together!" Pansy exclaimed, and even Blaise looked shocked at how phony her enthusiasm sounded.

"Great," Violet said flatly. "I can't wait."

* * *

The first day of school flew by, and soon Hermione was in the girl's locker room changing for practice. Draco had been right, she had not needed to bring an entire backpack; most of her teachers were waiting to assign textbooks, with the exception of her Anatomy and Calculus teachers. She and Violet had practically the same schedule, aside from Leadership. Instead, Violet was in yearbook, a class Hermione had somehow overlooked.

The school was on block scheduling, which meant that they alternated classes every other day. Red days were for odd numbered classes – periods 1, 3, and 5, and Black days were for even numbered classes – periods 2, 4, and 6. 7th period was everyday, and for Hermione it was AP Portfolio class. She and Violet had spent the entire period talking about their plans for senior year.

Once Hermione was dressed, she left the locker room and headed for the gym foyer. Most of the football team had congregated there, along with the cheerleading squad and dance team members.

"How was your first day?" Draco asked. Hermione shrugged.

"Not too bad, the classes seem really easy," she told him.

"You didn't let Violet beat you up, did you?" He asked. She shook her head.

"No, and once everyone saw Violet was okay with it, they backed off too," she said, talking about her portfolio class, which consisted mostly of kids she and Violet hung out with in previous years.

"Good," he replied, seeming to genuinely care. "I'll meet you here after practice," he told her before following the rest of the team into the locker room.

* * *

Hermione waited for Draco in the lobby after practice had ended and she had changed out of her practice clothes. Outside, the sky had clouded over after the late-afternoon downpour Hermione had thankfully missed while she was practicing. After about thirty minutes, when there was no sign of Draco, Hermione decided to walk out to her car with her stuff.

In the parking lot she had a clearer view of the Stadium, and she could make out the tired-looking silhouettes of the football team making their way down the path. Hermione put her stuff in the backseat and hurried to meet Draco.

"Oh, gross," Hermione remarked, catching a whiff of mud and BO as the team started filing past her. They were all covered from head to toe in dark mud that smelled vaguely of sewage.

"Hermione!" Draco called, catching sight of her. "How about a hug?" he offered, heading towards her, his muddy mouthguard swinging haphazardly from the face guard on his helmet as he removed it.

"No, I'm quite alright," she replied. "I'll take that as an I.O.U."

"I insist," Draco said, reaching for her arm.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked, jumping backwards. She tangled up her feet in the process and started to fall. Quickly, she reached out for Draco's arm to steady herself and wound up falling forward instead of backwards. Draco was caught off guard as all of her one hundred and twenty pounds came barreling into him and they both went sprawling in the mud.

Hermione and Draco were silent for a moment and then they both burst out laughing. Draco pressed his hand against Hermione's cheek playfully, leaving a big muddy handprint.

At that moment, a camera flash went off, followed by several hundred others. Draco and Hermione looked up to see where the flashes were coming from and began trying to get up. Unfortunately, the mud was incredibly thick and slippery so they were having no luck.

"What is going on here?" a voice boomed. Hermione recognized it almost instantly as the head football coach, Coach Kaysen. "Boys, don't just stand there, Press Block! Ready and," with that Coach K gave a sharp tweet on his whistle. The rest of the football team fell into a line between Hermione and the cameras. The coach helped her to her feet and then hoisted Draco up as well.

As Hermione and Draco made their way into the school building, the line moved with them, acting as a human shield from the media.

"My god, they're ferocious," Draco said after they were safely inside.

"It's a slow news time," Coach K informed him. "They have nothing better to do than cover a bunch of high school kids falling in some mud. I don't care whose son you are, mud is still mud, and no one cares."

"Why don't you go tell them that?" Hermione asked. She sighed. "I am not getting in my car like this," she said looking down at her mud-caked body.

"We'll fix you up, don't worry," the coach replied.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hermione and Draco were pulling out of the parking lot, seated on a set of freshly laundered white towels. Coach K had sent the towel boy out to her car to cover the interior for her. The sky above thundered ominously as she turned left at the stop sign.

By the time they reached Draco's house, it was pouring down rain. Hermione pulled up in the driveway and put the car in park.

"You can just go on, I'll meet you back at your house," Draco said. Hermione unbuckled her belt.

"I think I'd better stay and help," she said, opening her door. Draco sighed and got out of the car.

"I'm a big boy, I think I can handle it," he informed her, but Hermione was already up the walk. She was shivering by the door when he got there, still digging through his bag to find the key. "I don't think I have my key," he remarked, looking in his pockets again.

"What about the garage doors?" She asked. He shook his head.

"I never learned the code, I always had a remote," he shrugged. Hermione sighed. By now she was no longer muddy, thanks to the rain, just cold and wet.

"Are you sure you don't have your key?" she asked. He fumbled through his duffel again, but came up short. Then a light bulb seemed to flicker on in his head, and he reached out for the doorknob. Turning it, he revealed that it had not been locked in the first place.

"I can't believe you didn't try that first," He sneered at her. She ignored his comment and went on inside.

"Draco, your mother left this for you," Nessie, the Malfoy's housekeeper, handed him an ATM envelope. He pocketed it immediately.

"Thanks," he said, heading to the stairs.

"I left your clean clothes on your bed so it would be easier to pack," she called after him. He nodded and ran up the stairs after Hermione, who seemed to have no trouble remembering where his bedroom was.

"Cozy," she remarked, looking at the four-poster canopy bed, similar to the ones at Hogwarts.

"I'm not a big fan of the navy blue," Draco said wrinkling his nose. He shrugged and started filling the suitcase Nessie had left out for him. Hermione shivered, much colder inside the air-conditioned house than she had been standing in the rain outside. "Why don't you get out of those wet clothes?" Draco asked her.

"I don't have anything else to put on, I left my practice clothes in my gym locker," Hermione informed him. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I was offering you something of mine to change into," he informed her, since she had not realized that was what he meant. Hermione shuddered again, and decided she had better take him up on his offer. Draco pulled a pair of mesh gym shorts with the Kensington football logo on them and an old t-shirt out of a drawer.

Hermione took the fresh clothes into Draco's bathroom and changed quickly. She dried her hair with a towel, and started looking under the sink for a hairbrush. Surprisingly enough, she also found a hair dryer shoved way in the back of the cabinet. She pulled it out and unwound the cord. From the looks of it, it had never been used.

After drying her hair, she emerged from the bathroom feeling much better. She took a seat on Draco's bed and watched him pick out his clothes. He was very meticulous about the way he packed his bag and packed everything by outfit. He nestled his laptop snugly on top of his clothes after wrapping it in a sweatshirt.

He reached under his bed and pulled out his Hogwarts box and handed it to Hermione. She ran her fingers over the smooth inlaid mahogany woodcut of the Slytherin logo. His box was much heavier than hers, and she wanted very badly to see what was inside it.

Draco zipped the suitcase closed and pulled it to the floor. He selected an outfit to change into from his remaining clean clothes.

"Do you mind if I take a shower?" he asked. She shook her head no. "Why don't you take that down to the car, and tell Nessie to send someone for my suitcase?" he asked.

"Because, I'm not your personal servant," she replied. He looked as though he wanted to say something nasty to that, but refrained and headed for the bathroom.

Hermione set the box aside, trying as hard as she could to resist the temptation to open it. She supposed Draco had just brought a few other magical items along and he didn't have anywhere else to put them. Telling herself to be satisfied with that explanation, she scooted across the bed so she could lie down.

The thick down comforter seemed to warm up around her almost as soon as she made contact with it. Amused, she noted that Draco seemed to have the same taste in pillow thickness as she did. Everything around her was covered in silk, which felt soft and soothing against her skin. Her eyelids began to feel heavy, but Hermione forced them open. A startling realization came to her almost at that exact moment: _This had been the first day since she had left Hogwarts that she did not wish she could go back._

This revelation unsettled her somewhat, but she reassured herself that she was just becoming accustomed to her new lifestyle. After all, her "memory" had grown so sharp over the past two weeks that there was barely any lapse time between the introduction of a new thing and her recognition of it.

Of course, her truce with Draco was making this much easier for her. Especially now that his mother was going back into Rehab for what must have been the twelfth time, and Draco would be staying with her for the time being. Blaise and Pansy were incredibly phony with her, but they were at least civil and not the royal bitches that they normally were.

Still it all felt incredibly foreign to her. She had never seen this side of Draco before and, as much as she liked it, she kept feeling like he would turn around any second and start calling her- oh what was it he always used to call her? Hermione wracked her brain, struggling to find the word.

"Mudblood," she said aloud, when it came to her several seconds later. She shook her head, wondering how on Earth she could have forgotten that word. An enormous yawn interrupted her thoughts, and she closed her eyes briefly.

* * *

"You are completely incompetent!" Lucius Malfoy roared at his niece. Samantha Meurteuil slammed the rolls of parchment in her hands down on her desk and stood up to look her Uncle in the eye.

"Don't you dare speak to me in that manner," she snapped back at him. "I am not incompetent. I know exactly what I'm doing," she informed him

"This is moving far too fast," He replied. "Someone is going to get hurt, Samantha," he spoke through his teeth, unable to hide his anger.

"Take that up with the Ministry, I'm not the one administering the spell," she retorted.

"I'm still in shock that you chose to trust them with this project," he replied. "I know several wizards who would have been far more capable—"

"Need I remind you that the spell is highly illegal without Ministry permission? They were most certainly not going to place responsibility in the hands of former known Death Eaters," she said, enunciating the last two words.

"The Ministry still recognizes that they are strong, competent Wizards, besides any speculation regarding their role in the Dark Arts," he hissed.

"You're just upset that you can't take over this for me," Samantha judged. "You're absolutely furious that you can't interfere here," a hint of cheekiness appeared in her voice as she said the last words. Without thinking twice, Lucius smacked her clean across the face.

"Don't you ever speak to me that way again. Do not forget, Samantha, that I can have you killed," he said before spinning on his heel and leaving her office.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes to see Draco standing over the bed wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. She rolled over to face away from him, grumpy that her nap had been interrupted. He chuckled to himself and got dressed.

"Are you ready?" he asked, once he was completely clothed. Hermione mumbled something, and he walked closer to the bed. "What was that?" he asked.

"Can I just have five more minutes?" she asked, sleepily. Draco laughed, and it was a strange sound to Hermione. She always heard Draco laughing an incredibly phony laugh with no emotion behind it. Suddenly she felt strong fingers descend on either side of her stomach, tickling her, and she doubled over, trying to get away.

She struggled to turn over, and then grabbed a hold of his hands. Using all her force, she managed to pry his hands off of her. Draco responded by grabbing hold of both her hands in just one of his hands and tickling her with his free hand. Fighting as hard as she could, she sat upright, and got hold of both his wrists. They both stared at each other, completely out of breath. Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to slow her breathing.

While she was focused on her breathing, Draco leaned forward and kissed her. She was shocked, and pulled back a little at first, but then she gave in and kissed him back. Her heart began to beat faster as her pulse raced. For some reason she could not pull away from him, no matter how many voices in her head were screaming at her to stop. She knew it was wrong, but at the same time it felt so good she could not bear to let it end.

This was nothing like kissing Ron, or any other boy she had ever kissed before for that matter. Somehow Draco had managed to completely sweep her off her feet in just one kiss. Before she really knew what she was doing, she was lying back on the pillow, her arms wrapped around Draco. He moved his hand to hold her face, and it seemed every place he touched her ignited almost immediately.

Hermione moaned softly, startling herself and Draco who suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing. He pulled away from her and stood up.

"We should get out of here," he said, reaching for his box. Hermione got to her feet, and managed to follow him down the stairs even though her head was still spinning.

They went straight to her house, and as she turned the car off in the garage, Draco pulled up behind her in his own car. Before she could go in the house, he stopped her.

"Please don't tell anyone about that," he asked her. Hermione opened her mouth to say something but he went on. "It's best if we both just pretend it never happened."


	6. The Season Opener

A/N: Alright, this chapter is mostly transition stuff. I apologize. But I'm going on vacation this weekend so I wanted to give you something.

I need fifteen reviews before next chapter! So keep up the good work!!

Chapter Six

When Hermione sat down at the breakfast table the next morning, she felt sick to her stomach. There was another full-color picture of her lying on top of Draco, covered in mud in the newspaper, accompanied by a short caption about their spill after practice. She turned it over, absolutely disgusted with not only herself, but the entire situation.

If Hermione had learned anything at Hogwarts, she had learned better than to get involved with a guy like Draco. Most of the school thought he was such hot shit, and all the girls wanted him so badly. Yet he prided himself on being elusive, and staying monogamous – much to most girls' chagrin, and everyone's surprise. Ron and Harry were always talking about how surprised they were that he did not sleep around just to prove that he could.

Hermione wanted more than anything to put the events of yesterday afternoon out of her mind, but it was almost like being stuck in a bad movie. A constant replay was on repeat inside her head. She was just glad that Harry and Ron would never find out about it. Their angry voices were the last thing she needed right now.

"Hermione, did you remember today is Senior Portrait day?" her mother asked, looking up from her paper.

"Oh, crap," Hermione said. She had completely forgotten because her mind had been so preoccupied with trying to forget about Draco.

"Hermione, Consuela found this in a drawer yesterday," Mrs. Granger continued, holding up a cell phone. "I thought you told me yesterday you had your phone with you," she prompted. Hermione buried her face in her hands.

"I thought I'd thrown it in my bag, Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lie to you," she apologized. Mrs. Granger passed her the phone.

"We almost lost our cook. She'd been complaining about hearing things for weeks and I thought I would have to let her go until she came to me yesterday with this," Mrs. Granger informed Hermione. She was quiet for a while, giving Hermione a displeased look. "I had some outfits sent over for your pictures, and I'll bring your other uniform to school when it gets back from the dry cleaners."

"Thank you!" Hermione replied feeling incredibly relieved.

"Hermione, I am a little bit worried about you," Her mother confided. "You haven't been acting like yourself lately."

"I-" Hermione could not think of anything to say to that. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you were announced president of the honor society and you didn't even seem to notice. You've been on edge about it since you got the letter saying you were a candidate, I thought you would be thrilled," Mrs. Granger began.

"I am!" Hermione interrupted. "I just have a lot on my mind," she admitted, being entirely honest.

"Like what? I'm your mother, you can talk to me," Victoria said softly, almost as though she were pleading with Hermione.

"Well, how will I balance all of my schoolwork with Dance and my other clubs?" Hermione asked, scolding herself mentally for backing herself into such a tight corner. "And I'm not even sure where I want to apply to college yet, let alone when I need to get all of that taken care of."

"I thought you had decided about college," Her mother looked shocked, and Hermione realized she must have said the wrong thing. She scanned her brain for something to say to fix the situation but came up empty-handed.

"She's changing her mind because we've been teasing her about being a lesbian," Draco interjected, coming into the kitchen. "Plus, her coach thinks she could get a dance scholarship at a few other schools," he said as he sat down. Hermione felt like hugging him.

"A lesbian?" her mother looked worried.

"Because it's an all-girls school," Draco said nonchalantly, pouring milk over his cereal. "No guys for miles, the girls get bored, it all adds up."

"Oh for heaven's sake," Victoria laughed, sounding relieved. "Wellesley is an excellent school Hermione, and it won't turn you into a lesbian if you're not one to begin with, but if you want to go to a co-ed school that's fine too. A Dance scholarship, that's exciting, huh?"

"Yes, but I don't know if I want to do that," she protested. "I'm still thinking about it."

"Well, you have a little bit of time to decide," Her mother said. "Don't worry so much."

"That'll be the day," Draco snorted. Hermione glared at him and finished her orange juice.

"You look good in red," Mrs. Granger changed the subject, referring to Hermione's burgundy dance team uniform. "So this is the away uniform?"

"Yeah," Hermione replied. "I don't even know why we have to wear them to school," she said, frowning at it.

"To promote school spirit," Draco informed her. "It's also an excellent advertising method. Besides, you don't wear that to dance in at the games," he added.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, you get costumes and stuff," he said, buttering his toast.

"Don't you remember, Hermione?" Her mother asked, looking at her strangely.

"I do now," she said honestly, visions coming into her head. "I don't know what's wrong with me this morning, I feel dumb," she confessed.

"Are you feeling okay?" Mrs. Granger looked concerned. Hermione nodded.

"Yeah, I guess I'm just not awake yet," she said, shaking her head.

"I'll take her to Starbucks," Draco said, as though that would cure everything. Hermione smiled, even though she could not remember what Starbucks was.

"Oh, that'll fix everything," her mother laughed. "Alright, well, I'll see you two after school with your clothes for pictures," she reminded them, standing up.

* * *

Once they were safely in the car, Draco turned to Hermione.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I have no idea! Everything was going so well, and now I can't remember anything," she mourned. "What is Starbucks?"

"Your favorite coffee shop," he informed her. "You'd better figure out what's wrong, I won't always be around to fix it," he scolded her. She just sunk into her seat and stared out the window. "Wait here," he said, after he had parked the car at Starbucks.

Hermione sat in the car, looking out the window. As soon as Draco had disappeared into the building, a police cruiser pulled up next to the car. The window rolled down, and the officer knocked on her window. Hermione jumped, and quickly rolled her window down.

"Hermione Granger?" The officer asked.

"Yes," she replied. "What's going on?" she asked, panicking. Had something happened to her mother or father?

"Calm down. I'm Officer Mitchell, Chief of Police," he said, holding his badge out for her to see. It looked exactly like a police badge, except the inscription on it read: _Lt. Mangus Mitchell, Order of Merlin- Second Class, United States Ministry of Magic – Office of Muggle Mishaps. _A look of understanding crossed her face, and he smiled at her. "I just need to ask you a few questions," he said, pulling a wand out of his car and directing it towards her. "You may have a little bit of a headache after this," he warned. Then he whispered a few words Hermione could not hear.

A bright light came out the end of his wand, making Hermione blink, and all at once she felt as though she were being dragged through her entire life in fast forward. Then she landed safely back inside herself, and she opened her eyes. He was right, her head did hurt.

"I appreciate your cooperation," Officer Mitchell said, rolling his window up. Hermione's head was pounding so hard she thought it might explode. When she went to ask him what had just happened, he was gone. She tried to remember what colleges she had planned to apply to and instantly a list popped into her head, just like it should have earlier that morning.

"Awesome," she said to herself, massaging her temples. Now if only she could get her headache to go away.

* * *

Hermione walked into her leadership class and took the only empty seat left in the semicircle of desks, right next to Josh. He grinned at her.

"You look really great in red," he informed her. She smiled and thanked him. "I've heard this is a really great class, I'm excited," he went on. Hermione felt a little bit better about the class after that. She looked around and noticed that most of the students in the room were wearing some kind of sports uniform. A little voice in her head noted that they were all popular kids, and she was reminded of Violet's reaction when she had discovered Hermione would be taking Leadership.

"What do you intend to do in that joke of a preppy social hour?" Violet had asked. Hermione had been unable to come up with a response to that question, but she had been dreading the class since that discussion because the guidance secretary had informed her that all electives were full so she would not be able to switch out of it.

"Good Morning!" a cheery blonde woman said, coming into the room. Everyone greeted her happily as though her cheer was infectious. "How was everyone's summer?" she looked around and listened intently as a few students talked about things they had done over the break. "Excellent!" she said. "Alright, well I only see one unfamiliar face here, so I think we'll skip those silly ice breakers and just let Josh introduce himself. Josh?" she prompted. Josh stood up and introduced himself to the class.

"Hey, I'm Josh, I just moved here from California. I'm a senior, I'm on the football team, and so far I like it a lot better here than at my old school," he said. Everyone clapped politely as he sat down.

"Thanks, Josh," the teacher said. "I'm Mrs. Hollins, but you can just call me Mrs. H," she introduced herself. "Alright! First order of business today is finding a Student Body Vice President," she began. "For those of you who don't know, Sarah, the girl we elected last year, had to move to New York over the summer quite unexpectedly. So the position is open. Any volunteers?" she asked. No one raised their hands, and her face fell slightly. "Alright then, Senior council members, I want you to conference for about five minutes and come up with a solution," she instructed. Pansy and a few other students left the room.

"Okay, Draco, you're on," she said as she left the front of the room. Draco got to his feet and stood up in front of the class. Hermione wished Ron and Harry were there so she could laugh with them about how much he had to be loving the attention.

"Well, as you all know, Homecoming is coming up next month," he began. Hermione tried to listen as intently as the other members of the class, but she just could not force herself to focus that hard on planning a school dance. All you had to was hire a DJ and hang some construction paper decorations around the gym, right? She sighed and looked down at the blank notebook page she had planned to take notes on.

"Hermione?" Draco asked. She looked up, startled to hear him talking to her. "Any ideas for a committee?"

"Um," Hermione squinted at the list he had written on the board. "Refreshments?" she suggested.

"Oh, good one," Mrs. H called from the back of the room.

"Who do you want as your co-chair, Hermione?" Draco asked. Hermione looked blankly at him.

"I'll do it!" Josh volunteered. Draco grinned almost wickedly and wrote their names on the board. "This should be fun," Josh whispered to Hermione. "Now we'll be able to eat a lot and say we're doing research."

"Great," Hermione replied, not even caring that she did not sound the least bit enthusiastic. What she really felt like doing was screaming. Leadership was turning out to be the biggest joke of a class she had ever encountered – worse even, than Divination. She sighed and began doodling in the margin of her notebook.

"Pansy! Do you have a decision?" Mrs. H asked suddenly. Hermione looked up to see the Senior class council members filing through the classroom door.

"Yes, we do," Pansy replied. "We decided that the Vice President needed to be someone responsible, reliable, and honest. So we wanted to pick someone who had a pretty good GPA so their schoolwork wouldn't suffer, someone who didn't already have a lot of commitments, and of course, someone who was capable of representing our school with poise and dignity," she paused. "So we chose Hermione Granger," Pansy said, smiling evilly at Hermione as she said it. The class burst into applause that Hermione could tell was incredibly phony.

"How about a few words, Hermione?" Draco asked, motioning for her to stand up. Hermione glared at him, as it was becoming clear to her that he was in on this nasty trick. She made her way up to the front of the room and smiled at the class, feeling like this was all an elaborate charade.

What did not cross her mind for a second was the fact that it was all a charade. This was not really happening, and in a few months, it would be nothing more than a distant memory. But this thought did not cross her mind. Instead, Hermione was telling herself to find the good in this horrible trick. She was reminding herself how good this would look on her college application.

"Well, members of the Senior council, I am honored that you picked me for this position and I hope I don't let you down," Hermione said. "Thank you, and I promise I will do my best to fulfill the duties that come along with being student body Vice President."

A bright camera flash left horrible spots in front of Hermione's face. She struggled to focus on the picture-taker, and suddenly found herself face to face with Violet.

"Congrats, Miss Vee-Pee," Violet crooned, dragging out the letters. "I'll be sure this gets in the yearbook, maybe even on the cover," she said sarcastically, giving Hermione a glare that plainly demonstrated her disappointment in her best friend.

"Alright, well, let's get everyone on a committee and then we can spend the rest of the period working in committees," Draco decided. Hermione gratefully returned to her seat, glad for the break from the spotlight.

* * *

Hermione sat down in the hall after all her classes had ended, doodling on a piece of blank paper and waiting for it to be time to change for practice. The rest of her day had been just fine, not taking into account the fact that Violet was barely speaking to her anymore. Her classes were pretty good, she just wished leadership was not such a joke. For some reason she had pictured studying leaders of the past and attending seminars and workshops, not planning school dances and socials. Why were they focusing on such trivial events and not on making or amending school policies? She sighed out loud, wishing she could switch classes.

"Why the long face?" a familiar voice asked. Hermione looked up to see Josh standing above her.

"Oh, no reason," she lied, letting a small smile crawl across her face. "I'm just impatient."

"You're ready to dance, huh?" he asked, sitting down next to her. "I understand. The first few days of school are really rough sometimes. I have three essays to write already," he informed her. "Congrats on making VP," he said. "That's really cool, Draco said this was your first year in leadership."

"Yeah," she admitted, feeling really awkward all of a sudden.

"You must be pretty popular then, huh?" he asked. "You had to be really popular at my old school to be elected to an office," he told her.

"I'm not popular at all," she protested, speaking honestly for the first time in the conversation. Josh gave her a look that plainly said he did not believe her for a second. "Come here," she said, scrambling to her feet. He stood up, and Hermione grabbed his hand. "Come with me," she repeated, leading him around the corner.

They went right into the library, where all of the librarians greeted Hermione enthusiastically. She said hello to all of them, and led Josh to the back corner of the room. It was dim and smelled fairly musty, but Hermione pulled a thick tome off the top of the shelf and placed it in Josh's hands. She led him to a nearby table, and waited impatiently for him to see the book in front of him.

"Kensington Preparatory School Yearbook," he read off the title. "This is from last year!" he finally noticed. Hermione sighed, and flipped open the cover. About halfway through the book, she stopped and pointed to a picture.

"There," she said. "That's me."

"No way," Josh said, leaning into the glossy page, as though the dim lights were playing a trick. "So?" he asked. Hermione looked at him, and then looked down at the picture. She remembered very vividly being horrified at her image.

It had rained on picture day, so her hair had frizzed to about the size of an afro. She had spilled pudding on her shirt at lunch, just before her picture was taken. When the flash had gone off, she blinked, so her eyes were only half open. Hermione looked up at Josh again.

"So?" she asked, incredulous. "So? So I'm a dork! I am a complete and total brainiac bookworm, who dresses funny and acts even funnier. I know I don't really seem like that anymore, but that's who I am. Until this year, I was the topic of countless jokes. Everyone tormented me, people were always going out of their way to humiliate me."

"But Draco said you two had been friends since you were little, he wouldn't let anyone do that to you," Josh said. Hermione felt like she was talking to a brick wall.

"Draco was the worst about it!" she hissed, not wanting to let her voice get above a whisper. "It wasn't until this summer that I told him he had to stop and we finally reconciled," she explained. Josh was quiet for a long time.

"Hermione, that's not who you are anymore," he said finally. Hermione sighed, and realized she had not gotten through to him at all. Obviously too much salt water and sun had made him dumb. "Listen to me," he said, realizing she thought he did not understand. He took her hands. "You may have been the biggest loser in the entire world last year, but for whatever reason, you've decided to change that. You have to believe me when I say you're not that girl anymore," he said, pointing to her picture. "You're still the same inside, Hermione, you're just not letting people walk all over you anymore. You've told everyone that you don't care what they think of you, and that you're going to do whatever you want regardless of what they think. You wanted to join the dance team, so you did. You wanted to be in leadership, so you signed up. And it was that easy, wasn't it?"

"Not exactly," Hermione said softly.

"I know your friend Violet thinks you're 'selling out' and becoming a preppy poser or something dumb like that, but she's wrong. You'd only be a poser if you were doing it just to fit in, just to be popular. But the truth is, Hermione, that you do fit here. You belong on the dance team, as Student Body Vice President, president of the photography club and the National Honor Society. That's who you are. You're not Violet, and so there's no reason for you to feel guilty for being chosen as vice president, even though she might be a little bit upset at you right now. She's a good friend, Hermione, and she won't stay mad at you forever," he paused again. "I know it might be ridiculously early, but do you think you might do me the honor of being my date to Homecoming?" he asked.

Hermione almost fell out of her chair. Here he was spouting off about how she was being herself and then he tacks a homecoming date invitation on the end?

"Uh, Josh, I think you may have gotten the wrong idea," Hermione began.

"As a friend, Hermione," Josh interrupted her. "Will you go with me as a friend?"

"Let me think about it," she said judiciously. He looked crestfallen, but quickly recovered.

"Alright, well, I'm going to go change for practice. I'll see you around, Hermione," he said, squeezing her shoulder before he walked away. Hermione sighed and stood up to put the yearbook away.

* * *

"Ladies, gather round!" Kerry called at the end of practice. She had a rather large cardboard box in front of her and had started to tear it open. The girls all ran to where she was standing and hovered expectantly around the box, still out of breath from their last run-through. Kerry tore the box open the rest of the way and opened it to reveal a lot of plastic bags full of something black.

"Ooh!" Blaise squealed, reaching for one of the bags. She tore it open and a two-piece dance costume fell out. Holding it up, Blaise revealed it to be a pair of black wide-legged pants and a short burgundy tank top. The pants had burgundy sequined flourishes on them, and the top had matching gold ones.

Hermione bit her tongue to keep from laughing. The outfits were not horrific, they were just funny. She took the one Kerry handed to her and reluctantly followed the other girls to try it on. There were excited squeals and remarks as the girls emerged in the outfits. Hermione slid hers on, and was disappointed to find that it was a lot tighter than it needed to be.

"Oh, Hermione," Kerry remarked, disappointed. She walked around Hermione, inspecting the outfit. It really was too small, and did not even look passable like their uniforms did. "There isn't time to get a new one between now and Friday," she sighed, sounding really disappointed. She looked around to see if someone else's was too big, but everyone's uniform seemed to fit them like a glove.

"Maybe she'll have to sit this one out," Blaise remarked, looking a little smug. Hermione sighed.

"You don't think you could lose a few pounds between now and Friday, do you?" Kerry asked, completely joking.

"She'll have to," Blaise responded, not joking in the least. Hermione glared at Blaise.

"We'll figure something out. Let me get your measurements so this stops happening," Kerry said finally, after a long awkward silence. Everyone on the team was staring at Hermione.

"We've never had a problem like this before," Blaise commented. Hermione sighed and changed out of the costume. Kerry took her measurements and wrote them down in her notebook.

"Alright ladies, take these home and hang them up," Kerry instructed. "Hermione, don't worry, we'll figure it out."

* * *

"Tip your chin up a little, and look over here, now smile," the photographer said. Hermione did her best to follow the directions. The camera flashed, and Hermione relaxed. "Alright, go change into your last outfit," the photographer directed.

Hermione emerged in her black dance team uniform and headed back to the backdrop the photographer had her standing in front of. She was told to kneel on the ground and put her hands on her hips, so she followed the directions. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother hovering attentively. Ordinarily this would have driven her nuts, but today she was relieved.

After about twenty different poses, the photographer told her she was finished. Hermione stood up and stretched, and headed to change again, but her mother stopped her.

"Go over there," she said, pointing to where Draco was having his pictures taken. Hermione sighed and headed for the corner of the room. Once the photographer noticed Hermione, she instructed her to sit on a black box in front of Draco. The process of posing and re-posing began again.

* * *

"Blimey," Ron remarked, looking at Hedwig's latest delivery. "Harry, wake up!" Ron called, running to his friend's bed. Harry stirred sleepily and sat up.

"What is it Ron?" Harry asked. Ron held out the letter from Hermione, as well as the picture she had attached. Harry let out a low whistle. "That's our Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Let me see!" Seamus shouted, joining the two other boys. "How come she doesn't look like that around here?" he asked. "Put it on the wall," he instructed. Harry climbed out of his bed and picked up his wand. Then an idea crossed his mind, and he whispered a few words. The picture grew twice its size, and Harry carried it down to the common room, where he tacked it on the bulletin board.

"She's very pretty," Neville managed to say, following the boys to see what the fuss was about.

"Yeah, she is," Dean agreed. A disgusted snort from Ginny tore the boys' attention away from Hermione's picture.

"I can't believe you all," she commented. "This is Hermione we're talking about!"

"We know," Seamus said, turning back to the picture.

"So, aren't you all a little bit skeptical? This is nothing like the Hermione we know," Ginny pushed. The boys dismissed her.

"I can't believe she looks so good," Ron said.

"We can," Lavender and Parvati said in unison, joining the group around the bulletin board.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, Ginny," Harry tried to console her. He put his arm around Ginny's waist. "This whole project has probably inspired her to reach out and try new things or something. You know how she is, she probably just wants to get a good grade and not miss out on any opportunities. She told me she went to a library with 128 million books in it last weekend – and those were just on the muggle side."

"That sounds _exactly_ like the Hermione we know," Ron agreed.

"I guess," Ginny agreed. "Maybe I just miss her."

"You're not the only one," Seamus said, meriting a smack on the head from Parvati.

* * *

Hermione hefted her duffel bag onto her shoulder and started walking towards the stadium. It was Friday evening, and unseasonably chilly for September. The warm afternoon had disappeared with the sunset, and Hermione was grateful the dance team track suits were double lined.

"Hey!" a voice called out, and Hermione turned to see Violet jogging a little to catch up with her. "Hey, Hermione," Violet said.

"Hey," Hermione said softly. Violet fell in step with Hermione as she continued to the Stadium.

"They're making me cover the game for Yearbook," Violet explained. Hermione nodded, hating that this conversation felt so awkward. Violet took a deep breath. "I owe you an apology," she said, stopping and turning to Hermione. "I uh, this is embarrassing, but I heard you talking to Josh in the library on Tuesday," she confessed. "Don't be mad, I know I shouldn't have listened, but I want you to know I think he's right," she hurried to continue so Hermione could not interrupt. "I really think it's great that you're Vice President. I know I've been acting like a jerk, and I'm sorry, I'm just jealous."

"Jealous?" Hermione was shocked.

"Yeah, because I would never have gotten picked to be Vice President, and if I had ever tried out for the dance team they would have laughed in my face," Violet informed her. "And I really wanted to be National Honor Society President. I know we agreed not to let that get in the way of our friendship, but it was a lot to deal with all at once."

"Oh, Violet," Hermione said, giving her friend a hug. Then she noticed her friend's hair was now a demure shade of pink. "I like this color," she complimented, touching the soft pixie-like locks.

"Thanks, my mom helped me with it," Violet said, running her fingers through it. "So you're not mad at me for being a jerk?"

"No, I understand that I've been acting really weird lately too," Hermione conceded. The girls started walking again.

"So, my mom told me Draco's dad walked out again," Violet said, making sure to keep her voice low. Hermione nodded.

"His mom's back in rehab too," Hermione added. Violet rolled her eyes.

"Must we repeat this sob scene every year?" she asked. Hermione laughed in spite of herself.

"Oh!" She remembered something suddenly, and started rifling through her bag. "Here," she said, handing Violet a piece of paper. Violet's eyes lit up.

"This is great, Hermione," Violet said. Hermione had handed her the flier for the first photography club meeting. She had been doodling it on a spare piece of paper during her classes. "I'll get some copies made on Monday," Violet folded the paper and stuck it in the back pocket of her torn up jeans. "Can you believe my mom tried to throw these jeans away again?" she mourned. Hermione looked at the faded and torn-up pair of flare jeans that Violet had been wearing since freshman year and tried not to laugh.

The girls reached the stadium and were ushered through the gate immediately. Even though the game was not scheduled to begin for another two hours, a line had already formed at the ticket counter.

"This is obscene," Violet murmured. She snapped off a few shots of the crowd outside the stadium, and then turned around. "Holy Shit, I've descended into school spirit hell," she observed, looking at the brand new burgundy and gold stadium seats.

Hermione was inclined to agree with her. The athletic department had been working all week to prepare the stadium for the season opener. In addition to their perfectly manicured field and new seats, a brand new Olympic-caliber track had been installed, everything had been repainted, the scoreboard had been replaced, and the press box was expanded. Everything was in coordinating shades of burgundy and gold, and the cougar logo was plastered everywhere. Balloons were clustered at every corner.

In addition to the perfect landscape, all three cheerleading squads were stretching in front of the stands. The Junior Varsity and Freshman football teams were hovering in one corner, the marching band was warming up in their new pit right next to the stands, and the dance team was clustered in the stands around the 50 yard line.

"It's not too late to turn back," Violet offered. Hermione laughed, but she was sorely tempted to bolt in the opposite direction. She made her way to the stands and joined the rest of the team.

"You're late," Blaise snapped when Hermione sat down. "Come here," she instructed. Hermione tentatively sat down next to Blaise. "Stacey, pass me some foundation," Blaise called out. The blonde passed her a small tube, and Blaise began slathering it on Hermione's face. A camera shutter clicked almost right in Hermione's ear, and Blaise shrieked.

"It's just me," Violet crooned. "Yearbook," she said in a sing song voice. Blaise shot her a plastic grin and turned back to Hermione's face. She added a ton of glitter and a pair of fake eyelashes before she was content.

"Alright ladies, listen up!" Blaise called, stepping over the seats to stand in front of everyone. "I want you all to sit right here in the first two rows for the entire game. At the end of the first half we will go prepare for our performance at halftime in the staging area," she gestured to the empty area next to the bandstand. "After we perform, we'll have a quick break while the band marches, but then I want everyone back here for the second half. Would you please back off?" Blaise snapped at Violet, who kept snapping pictures of Blaise.

"Soor-ee!" Violet mocked before turning around. Hermione bit her tongue to keep from laughing.

"Alright, then after the game we'll follow the football players into the school where we'll all congregate in the main gym until the press has been cleared," Blaise continued. "That should take awhile; I think they're showing _Finding Nemo_ or something while we wait. But after that we've been instructed to go directly home, so we'll have to skip pizza tonight," she said, referring to the original plan which was to get pizza after the game.

Traditionally following the games, the police cleared the press from campus in about thirty minutes, but because this was the opening game they were anticipating it would take much longer to get everyone off school grounds. Hermione sighed, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" a voice said into Hermione's ear. She looked up to see Pansy hovering at her elbow. Hermione nodded and stood up to follow her, ignoring the nasty look Blaise was giving her. As they walked towards the visitor stands, Hermione could not help but admire the way Pansy carried herself. She walked with her back completely straight and her shoulders square, as though she had never slouched a day in her life.

Her steps were even, and her hips swayed naturally as she walked making her long blonde ponytail bob from left to right and back. Hermione felt a little bit like a clown next to her. Pansy's cheerleading uniform was neat and tidy, falling just right on her thin frame, while Hermione's track suit just fell straight, not hugging anything. They stopped walking, and Pansy turned to face Hermione.

"Um, I just wanted to tell you that Draco told me what happened," Pansy said. Hermione's stomach flipped upside down, but for some reason Pansy looked as nervous as Hermione felt. "No hard feelings, alright?" Pansy asked. Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "I mean, Draco told me it was all him and you pushed him away, and I just want you to know that I understand. It's okay, I'm not mad at you," Pansy clarified.

"Oh," Hermione could not reply.

"Ignore Blaise, alright? She doesn't understand, and she's kind of a brat anyway," Pansy added. Hermione nodded. "Don't look so scared, I'm not joking," Pansy said, giving Hermione a genuine smile. Hermione smiled weakly and followed Pansy back to the stands.

* * *

Try as she might, Hermione could not focus on the game at all. Pansy's words were echoing in her head throughout the entire first half. Why had Draco lied for her? True, he had kissed her, but she had not really pushed him away. This whole situation was really frustrating, and it was getting worse every day. Especially now that Pansy knew about it, and did not seem to care.

Hermione was so caught up in her thoughts she barely noticed the first half flying by. Before she knew it, everyone was standing up to go get ready for the halftime show. She grabbed her bag and hurried along to the staging area. They all slipped out of their track suits and formed a ring around Kerry who gave them a few last minute reminders.

"Smile, ladies, be sure to smile. Remember the field is a lot bigger than our practice space, so you'll be spread out but don't let that throw you off. Alright, get out there and make me proud!" she said, and Hermione followed the girls out onto the field. She moved into her starting position and took a deep breath.

The music started and before Hermione knew it, she was sliding elegantly into the final pose. She grinned furiously, proud of herself for pulling it off. The team ran off the field, and as soon as Hermione was back in the staging area she was being hugged ferociously by a very excited Violet.

"You were so good!" Violet sounded shocked. "That was incredible!"

"Thank you," Hermione said, her cheeks turning rosy pink from all the praise. She put her track suit back on, and gathered up her belongings.

"Hermione, your outfit looked great, how did you do it?" Kerry stopped her. Hermione looked down at her track suit and then realized Kerry meant her performance outfit.

"My mother has a tailor who just made me another one. She just copied the old one and matched it perfectly," Hermione explained. Kerry smiled.

"That's awesome, good thinking," she commended before letting Hermione and Violet pass.

"I'm starving," Violet said right away. "Let's hit the snack bar," she suggested. Hermione agreed and they returned to the stands with pizza and popcorn.

* * *

The game ended around nine in a decisive victory for the Kensington Cougars. Hermione and the rest of the dance team sprinted across the field with the cheerleaders to catch up with the team as they ran back to the school.

"Awesome game!" Josh shouted, catching sight of Hermione. She laughed, wishing she had been able to concentrate on it. Violet caught up with her a few seconds later and they descended down the back path from the stadium where the Police had blocked off a "media free" zone.

Everyone squeezed through the doors of the main gym which had also been decorated for the occasion. Pizza and sodas had been delivered, and after the team had changed out of their uniforms, everyone got settled in.

"I heard you rocked the halftime show," Draco said, coming over to where Hermione and Violet had set up camp. Hermione smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"Who said that?" she asked.

"Pansy," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm sorry I missed it," he apologized. Hermione was confused for a second but then remembered that the team always returned to the locker room during halftime.

"There will be other times," she said.

"Did you see my mom?' he asked, looking a little bit distressed. Hermione shook her head no. "My dad came," he admitted. "He came and saw me at halftime."

"I didn't see him," Violet protested.

"Yeah, he _left_ at halftime," Draco informed her, taking a slightly annoyed tone. She shrugged.

"My dad wasn't there," Hermione said suddenly, realizing he had promised to come see the first game.

"Surprise, surprise," Violet said sarcastically. Hermione looked down at her hands and was quiet. "Well neither way my dad, let's all cry about it."

"Why the long faces?" Josh asked, joining the group. "We just kicked some major ass, you all should be celebrating." He got no response from anyone, so he just walked away.

"Alright, well, I'll catch up with you two later," Draco said, walking away. Hermione sighed and took a sip of her soda.

"So are you gonna go to Homecoming with Josh?" Violet asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know yet, I'm not sure how I feel about him," she replied.

"He seems nice, you'd probably have fun," Violet suggested.

"Are you encouraging me to be involved in a school function?" Hermione pretended to be incredulous

"Hey, Miss Student Council, your presence is mandatory. Might as well have a date," Violet defended. "Besides, I have to go for yearbook, so we can suffer together."

"I'm going to think about it some more," Hermione stayed firm. "My mom is going to make a huge deal over it, you know she will."

"Truth," Violet agreed. "How much longer do you think we'll be cooped up in here?" she asked. Hermione shrugged.

"It could be a while," she said sadly.


	7. Homecoming

A/N: Yay! I got my reviews. That's exciting. How about another fifteen for next time?

Chapter Seven

Hermione sat at an isolated table in the corner of the library. She had woken up early that Sunday morning to spend some time working on her Hogwart's assignments. The Library of Congress had a special collection of magic books that she was using to write her History of Magic essays. After finishing this essay she would be ready to start on Transfiguration work. She had only been gone from the Wizarding world for six weeks, but she had already completed the majority of her assignments for the next three _months._

Sipping carefully at her piping hot mocha, Hermione paused to consider the fact that she had been gone from Hogwarts for almost two months. She had to admit that it had not been as bad as she had originally thought it would be. Certainly her muggle classes were not a challenge to her. Calculus was the only class she found herself doing any real work in. Human Anatomy was just a matter of memorization, Government she had already covered in Muggle Studies, Literature and Portfolio were a lot of fun, and Leadership and Marketing were just a joke. Those two classes consisted mainly of socializing and reading magazines.

Ordinarily, Hermione would have been disappointed that her classes were so worthless, but instead she found that it was leaving her with a lot of free time. Not that she actually had any free time – dance practice, Hogwart's work, and her other clubs were taking up that time. That very morning she had realized that her regular dance classes were starting up again the next week.

Hermione set her coffee aside and pulled her latest fascination out of her purse. It was a little electronic device Draco referred to as a "PDA." Everyone in school seemed to have one, so Hermione had gone looking and found her own stored neatly in her computer desk drawer. Her schedule, school notes, and important phone numbers were all stored neatly in this little computer. She was really surprised that the Wizarding world had not come up with a similar object. Actually, she was really surprised that she had never heard of one until she had come to the United States. There were a lot of things she was missing out on in Europe just because she spent so much time caught up in the Wizarding world.

After pleading with him, Hermione had convinced Draco to show her how to download instant messenger. But she was bored with it very quickly because the only two people on her buddy list were Draco and Violet. She had made a mental note to start collecting screen names.

Mrs. Granger seemed to be incredibly pleased with her daughter's transformation. She was always encouraging Hermione to go out and stay out late, and constantly pushing her to bring friends over to the house. A Sunday afternoon lunch party for the dance team was already being planned. And of course, Mrs. Granger was trying to find out as much about the homecoming dance as she possibly could from Hermione.

"Mom, we haven't even settled on a theme yet!" Hermione rolled her eyes, trying to skirt the topic.

"Well, why don't you bring the committee over after school some day. You can sample foods here," Victoria offered. Hermione had grudgingly agreed to get her mother to ease off.

A sudden vibration in Hermione's back jerked her out of her thoughts. Her cell phone was ringing, and she was grateful she had remembered to turn it on vibrate. The wizards and witches around her had probably never seen a cell phone before and would not have reacted well to it ringing in their midst. She rushed from the room to take her call.

"Hi Mom," she whispered, hitting the talk button.

"Hermione where are you?" Her mother sounded near hysterics. Hermione looked at her watch and groaned inwardly. She was late for her dress fitting, even though she had promised her mother she would be on time.

"I'm stuck in traffic," Hermione lied, hoping her mother would believe her. "Church just let out," she offered a seemingly plausible explanation for the traffic.

"Just hurry up," Her mother said curtly before hanging up. Hermione jogged back to her seat and gathered up her belongings quickly. She opted not to check out the books she was using in the interest of saving time.

* * *

Hermione stood in the center of the room surrounded by yards and yards of pale blue taffeta. Her mother stood off to one side, appraising each tuck and pin made by the seamstress who was hovering nervously around Hermione's hip. Behind the seamstress stood the designer, Carolina, an older woman with elegant grey hair that was swept into a bun. She dictated directions to the seamstress, who tried her best to follow the instructions.

After almost two hours of standing perfectly still, Hermione's legs, back, and neck were screaming at her. She wanted to stretch a little bit, but was afraid of ruining her dress.

"Get me ten yards of tulle. Eggshell white tulle. No, no, I think the blue would –oh! Black. Bring me the black," Carolina decided finally. The seamstress ran from the room, and Carolina extended her hand to Hermione. "Step down, I know you're dying up there," she offered. Hermione carefully descended from her perch and gently rested on a nearby chair. "Senior year homecoming," Carolina prompted. "Who's the lucky boy?"

"I, uh, haven't decided yet," Hermione croaked. Carolina laughed gently.

"My mother always said, 'why make one man miserable when you can make a whole lot happy?'" she replied. "Well, whomever you choose will be very happy. Have you decided what school you're going to next year?"

"Well, I'm still thinking about it, but Wellesley, Sarah Lawrence, William and Mary, and Amherst are my top choices," Hermione rattled the list off effortlessly this time around. She was grateful her memory had been restored, and it was seemingly sharper than it had been in the past.

"Ugh, what dreary options," Carolina chided. "Didn't your father go to Harvard?"

"Ye-es," Hermione replied, already having heard this argument before. "I, uh, plan to apply there too."

"It's her backup," Victoria interrupted, pinching Hermione's arm to make her shut up. The women burst out laughing as though using Harvard as a backup school was the funniest thing they had ever heard, and the seamstress returned. Hermione eagerly returned to the center of the room.

The seamstress pinned the tulle around the bottom edge of the dress, leaving about six inches showing. Everyone stepped back to look at Hermione, and uttered a collective sigh. Hermione turned to look in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's not finished yet," Carolina explained. "There will be black trim to accentuate here, and here," she gestured, "this will look more like a corset, and there will be black panels here, here, and here."

"Perfect," Victoria Granger pronounced. The seamstress took several pictures of the dress, from many different angles, and then began to help Hermione out of the fabric. As she was about halfway through unwinding the taffeta, Hermione's cell phone rang. "I'll get it!" Victoria offered, and picked up Hermione's purse. "Hello?" she asked, pressing the talk button.

Hermione sighed and concentrated on not getting stabbed with a pin. Homecoming was now only two weeks away. The class had finally decided on a theme – Hollywood Romance. Hermione had almost bitten her tongue off in an effort to keep from laughing out loud when Pansy had announced the committee's decision. Apparently the decision had taken a few months to reach since the planning had begun at Leadership camp in July. Hermione was glad she had missed that bonding opportunity.

"Tha-at was Josh," Victoria cooed. Hermione raised her eyebrows and turned to look at her mother. "I invited him and the rest of the refreshments committee over this afternoon for your meeting with the caterers. They might as well get to taste too, right?" she reasoned.

"Might as well," Hermione agreed. She sighed and slid back into her jeans. Her plan had been to pick the top three caterers and then have everyone over for a taste test, but leave it to her mother to ruin that plan. Hermione had been trying to avoid being alone with Josh for as long as possible, but while he was in her house he was sure to find a way. Grudgingly, Hermione followed her mother out of the boutique and into the harsh sunlight of the Saturday morning sun. She picked up her cell phone and hit the speed dial for Violet. Behind her a cell phone rang and a familiar voice answered.

"You didn't tell me you were coming here!" the voice shrieked. Hermione turned to see Violet and her mother going into the boutique as Hermione and her mother were exiting.

"Oh," Hermione could not think of anything else to say. She smiled at Violet's mother and hung up the phone.

"You should come over when you get through here," Victoria interrupted. "Hermione's having some other friends over to taste test for the dance. I'm sure she would love your opinion."

"That's what I called about," Hermione interjected before Violet could get upset. "I actually really need your advice about the dance," she said pointedly. Violet got a knowing look on her face.

"Sounds good. I'll see you later," she said, following her mother inside.

* * *

"So, I like this cheese, but the crackers are awful," Violet said, shoving another bite into her mouth. Hermione tried not to gag.

"What we need to remember is that everyone is going to dinner before the dance, so we don't need a lot of food," Hermione said loud enough for everyone to hear her. The caterers had set up in the Granger's ballroom and the ten students on the refreshments committee were wandering around trying the various offerings.

"What are you going to do about Josh?" Violet whispered, getting straight to the point. Hermione sighed.

"I don't know, I have to take a date," Hermione mourned. "Don't you think it would look weird if I went alone?"

"Why?" Violet asked. "You could be my date."

"I hate to turn down an offer like that," Hermione laughed. "Seriously though."

"I was serious. I don't have a date yet," Violet said.

"But you have to take pictures the whole time, you won't have time to dance with me," Hermione pouted.

"Good call," Violet admitted. She looked across the room at Josh who was talking animatedly with one of the caterers. "Josh is a decent guy, Hermione. I can't think of anyone better than him."

"I guess you're right. I just don't feel right about it," she sighed. "But he is a good friend, and I'll probably have fun with him."

"And that's what matters," Violet agreed. "Pass me one of those gherkins."

* * *

"Gooood afternoon Cougars!" Mrs. H's excessively perky voice came filtering over the loudspeaker Friday afternoon as Hermione's art class was cleaning up. Everyone fell silent, but continued working. "I have been given the honor of announcing this year's Homecoming court. For the junior class," she read off a list of names that Hermione vaguely recognized as being students in her leadership class or from sports teams. She kind of tuned the announcement out as she dried her paint brushes off and returned them to the cabinet.

"The Senior Class court members are Matthew Marley, Josh Benning, Thomas Tanner, Draco Malfoy," Mrs. H continued and Violet made a gagging noise which caused the whole class to laugh. "Stacy Sutter, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Hermione Granger," she went on to say something about congratulating the lucky court members, but Hermione was in shock.

"What?" Violet snapped. She shook Hermione's shoulder gently. "No way," she added.

"This has got to be a mistake," Hermione moaned, sitting down.

"Well, I voted for you, but I never thought you'd make it," Violet admitted.

"Gee, thanks," Hermione said. With a best friend like Violet, who needs enemies?

"I did too," one of her classmates came forward. A few other students who were listening nodded in agreement. "It just seemed fitting, you being vice president and all."

"My mom is going to freak out," Hermione groaned. The dismissal bell rang, and she grabbed her camera bag and purse. Violet followed her to their lockers. As they went along the way, it seemed like everyone was looking at Hermione. A few students offered congratulations to her, and she tried to smile in thanks. She did not even know their names! How could they know who she was?

"Wohoo!" Josh yelled as Hermione approached. He scooped her up and spun her around. "We're royalty now," he informed her as he returned her safely to the ground. Hermione nodded in agreement, getting excited about it. "Let's go get our picture taken," he said, taking her hand.

"Not so fast," Violet stopped him. "I'm the one running that photo shoot, just take a chill pill. We won't start until 3," she informed him, calmly putting her books away.

"Hermione!" a voice called. Hermione, Violet, and Josh turned to see Blaise and Pansy coming towards them with enormous smiles on their faces.

"Oh geez," Violet rolled her eyes and quickly pulled the lens cap off her camera. "Kodak moment here we come," she said, snapping off shots as the three girls hugged in the middle of the hallway.

"Do you have your dress yet?" Blaise asked Hermione.

"It's being delivered tomorrow," she said, feeling little butterflies in her stomach. This was all becoming very real, very quickly.

"What color is it?" Pansy and Blaise asked in unison. They giggled.

"Baby blue," Hermione said. The girls breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, no one's dress is the same color, and they're all complimentary," Pansy explained.

"Mine is mint green," Blaise informed them

"Lavender," Pansy shared.

"Black," Violet waved her hand, as though joining in the conversation.

"Eww," Blaise and Pansy chorused. Violet grinned.

"Anyway," Blaise said rudely. "Tell us about the food."

"My lips are sealed," Hermione said elusively. "It's a surprise. I will tell you to skip dessert though," she winked. Blaise and Pansy exchanged excited glances.

"Well, let's go take pictures, shall we?" Violet asked, slamming her locker.

* * *

Hermione glanced at her watch and then expectantly at the door to the restaurant. She and Draco met every Sunday morning for brunch at the country club and this week he was uncharacteristically late. Pulling her cell phone from her purse, Hermione decided she had better call him.

"What did I miss?" Draco asked, suddenly appearing in front of her. He slid into his chair and took a gulp from his orange juice. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized.

"It's alright," Hermione put her phone away. "How is your mom?" she asked. Narcissa had come home from Rehab on Wednesday.

"Good, good," Draco seemed a bit edgy. "My dad came home," he finally said, as if he were about to explode.

"When?" Hermione was surprised.

"This morning, that's why I was late," Draco explained. Hermione nodded. "I'm starving," he said, jumping up and heading for the buffet. Her head spinning, Hermione followed him. She was bewildered by his behavior, but glad to see him in such a good mood.

"Fancy meeting you here," Josh said, walking up to Hermione. She smiled at him.

"Hi, Josh," she said, hoping he would get his food and leave them alone.

"How is my princess?" he asked, taking her hand and kissing it. He had taken to calling her that ever since they had been voted to Homecoming court.

"I'm alright," she said, taking her hand back. "A little bit hungry, actually," she said, pushing past him to get to the buffet.

"Josh!" Draco exclaimed. "How are you?"

"I'm great, and yourself?" Josh replied, turning his attention to Draco.

"Fantastic," Draco answered, scooping some potatoes on his plate. He and Josh got lost in some talk about football, and Hermione took the opportunity to get away. She was sitting calmly at the table enjoying her waffle when Draco returned.

"Get enough to eat?" she asked, eyeing the mound of food on Draco's plate. He shrugged.

"For the first round," he replied. Hermione rolled her eyes. "I asked Josh to join us but he's with his family."

"Thank god," Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. Draco almost choked on his orange juice, laughing.

"Give him a break, Hermione, he tries," Draco laughed. "He really likes you."

"I know," she wailed. "I don't like him like that, at all."

"He knows, he's trying to accommodate," Draco explained. "So he gets a little corny from time to time. Like that whole princess thing, it's just a shield."

"I feel like a bitch," Hermione moaned. "I don't know why he likes me, and I don't mean to hurt him. What am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing. It's not like you're leading him on. Just relax a little," Draco counseled. "And what do you mean you don't know why he likes you? You happen to be a very likeable person, Hermione," Draco continued. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" she asked him.

"Hey, you got me to like you," he informed her. For a second, Hermione's heart stopped. Draco liked her? No way. Then she realized he meant as a friend.

"Josh likes me in a different way than you do," she countered, hoping he had not seen her get flustered.

"Not the point," Draco retaliated. "You and I are friends, Hermione. That doesn't mean I can't see why someone would be attracted to you. Especially now that we're friends, but even before we were, back at Hogwarts. You're very smart, incredibly confident, definitely forward, and not bad to look at. The more I get to know you, the more attractive you become, actually," he added, giving her an appraising look that made her feel totally naked and almost violated.

"What are you talking about?" she hissed, very uncomfortable about having this conversation in public.

"Come on, I kissed you didn't I?" he asked. "Why do you think I did that?"

"I have no idea," she replied. "You wouldn't answer my questions about it."

"Maybe you should think a little bit harder, Hermione," he suggested harshly. "Anyway, don't worry about Josh," he changed the subject, "He's a big boy, he can handle it."

"Fantastic," Hermione sighed, picking at her waffle.

* * *

The next morning marked the beginning of "Spirit Week," the time the student government used to get all the students excited for Homecoming. Each day had a different theme: Monday was Pajama Day, Tuesday was Cowboy/Cowgirl Day, Wednesday was Hollywood Day, and Thursday was Burgundy and Gold Day. Friday was the actual Homecoming Day. The entire day was being devoted to Homecoming Festivities. At ten was the parade followed by the pep rally at noon. The football game started at two, and the dance began at eight. Classes were cancelled, but attendance was mandatory until the game began.

Using the entire day for activities was something new this year. Hermione had convinced the school administration that it made more sense to restrict activities to one day than to stretch it out over two days. Her idea was met with a great deal of enthusiasm by her leadership classmates who were eager to miss a day of classes. Decorating for the dance would take place after school on Thursday, with the assistance of the coaching staff who would monitor the field house on Friday to make sure no students tried to enter the locked gym for any reason.

After the entire gym had been covered with decorations, Hermione turned her focus on the parade, which she was being forced to participate in and coordinate at the same time. She had spent most of the week on the phone with various officials making sure that the parade route was not only approved, but also secured for the safety of the participants. The staging for the parade would take place on the soccer field which featured a high wall that made media exposure impossible. The parade would exit the school grounds, pass down the street and around twenty-five city blocks before returning to the school from the opposite direction.

Kensington Students would then proceed into the stadium for the pep rally and cookoff lunch, sponsored by a few local restaurants. The football game would follow to include a special halftime show during which the Homecoming King and Queen would be announced. After the game, students had enough time to return home to prepare for a leisurely dinner before the dance.

Hermione awoke on Friday morning with her stomach full of knots. Jumping out of bed, she twisted her hair into corkscrews – the hairstyle Blaise had picked for them to wear that day – and put on her freshly dry-cleaned home uniform. Everything she needed for the day was tucked neatly in her duffel bag, minus her performance gear which was in a separate garment bag. She had a lot riding on the day's activities and she refused to let anything ruin her careful planning.

"Good Morning, Princess!" an unfamiliar voice sing-songed as she walked into the dining room for breakfast.

"Dad?" Hermione asked. He grinned his brilliant white smile at her.

"Surprise!" He exclaimed. Hermione sat down at the table and helped herself to some breakfast. "I couldn't miss my daughter's Senior Homecoming, could I?" he asked. Hermione looked up at him and smiled, feeling a little bit cheap. He was holding her mother's hand, and she was smiling furiously at him.

"I'm glad you could make it," Hermione said, trying to be friendly. He had thrown her mindset completely off. She struggled to focus on what she was doing and not let him get to her.

"Well, I won that case last week, so they let me come home for a little while," he informed her. He carried on and on about some legal work he had been doing that Hermione had not bothered to follow. Her father was working on a seat in the senate, despite how often he tried to squash those rumors. It was a perfect opportunity for the world to see him as a family man, and she was well aware of it. Finally she had become a glistening beacon of American adolescence, positioned just right to shine a little light on his path to the Capitol. She swallowed the last sip of milk in her glass and stood up.

"I have to get going, there's a lot to do, but Mom knows the schedule of events. I'll see you there?" she asked, giving him a hug and kiss and then giving one of each to her mother.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he said. "Let me walk you out, I have to see this car of yours," he jumped to his feet.

"Mark, she really has to get going," Mrs. Granger said, grabbing his arm. Hermione nodded.

"Later then," he said, sitting back down.

"Have fun, sweetie!" Her mother called. Hermione grabbed her duffel and her garment bag and almost sprinted out of the house.

The truth was she had plenty of time to pick up Draco, but she could not stand to be in the house with her father for another second. Something about his presence just made her want to scream. Now she remembered why she had never done anything remotely like this before. She had been struggling to keep herself from becoming her father's tool.

She pulled into Draco's driveway and took a deep breath before going inside. Hermione knew she was supposed to at least pretend like she was happy her father had come home. The Malfoy family was gathered around their own dining room table.

"Hermione! Don't you look beautiful?" Mr. Malfoy crooned, getting up from the table. Hermione almost screamed. The man giving her a hug was almost a spitting image of Lucius. What gave him away as an imposter was the conservative east coast haircut, and the slight tan. She sat down next to Draco, who was busy eating an omelette.

"I know I'm early, I'm just excited," she informed everyone. An exhausted-looking Narcissa smiled indulgently.

"Of course you are," she said sweetly, the sharp superficial tone missing from her voice. Hermione recognized this as her usual post-rehab self. Draco stood up from the table.

"Okay, I'm ready," he said, picking up his bags. "Parade at ten, game at two," he reminded his parents.

"Give us a smooch," Narcissa instructed. Draco relented and gave her peck on the cheek. "You too Hermione," she said. Hermione gave her a hug and then followed Draco out the door.

"My dad came home," she said, as soon as they were outside.

"I knew it," he replied, as though he had won a game. "He couldn't resist the opportunity, could he?"

"Not in the least," Hermione agreed, getting into the driver's seat. "Starbucks?" she suggested. Draco laughed.

"A month ago you couldn't even remember what Starbucks was," he teased. Hermione rolled her eyes and took that as a yes.

* * *

By the time the Pep Rally rolled around, Hermione had smiled to the point her cheeks were completely numb. She got her lunch and retreated to the quietest corner of the stadium she could find.

"I thought I'd find you here," Violet's unmistakable voice shattered all the hopes Hermione had of having a quiet meal. "Hey, I saw your dad," she said, as though maybe Hermione did not know he was there.

"Yeah, it was my surprise this morning," Hermione sighed. Violet nodded.

"What a scum bag," she said. "But this food is pretty good," she offered, taking a bite of her burrito.

"Thanks," Hermione replied, even though she had nothing to do with the food for the pep rally. She did not bother to point this out to Violet.

"Are you excited for the dance?" Violet asked.

"Yeah," Hermione nodded. She really was, even though all of the planning made her exhausted. Though she had initially written the class off as a joke, Hermione surprised herself by being enthusiastic about her position as Vice President. In fact, she found herself coming up with a ton of ideas for projects to tackle further into the school year. Maybe Josh was right, maybe she had found her true self.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, at this time we would like you to please take your seats for the Kensington Preparatory Homecoming Game!" an announcer read from the press box. Hermione leapt to her feet and hurried to the stands where the rest of the team was waiting for her. Blaise tossed a brand new pair of burgundy and gold pom-poms at her and motioned for her to squeeze into the seat next to her.

"Are you as nervous as I am?" Blaise shouted above the roar of the crowd. Hermione nodded, but honestly she had not even thought to be nervous until Blaise mentioned it. Now that she considered it, there were a ton of little knots in her stomach.

The band struck up the song "Eye of the Tiger," as the team took the field. An announcer read the starting line up off a sheet as each player ran through the tunnel formed by the three different cheerleading squads. Hermione felt herself getting swept up in the spirit that the crowd around her seemed to be possessed with.

Before she knew what was happening, the first half was almost over and Blaise was pushing her to her feet. Hermione grabbed her bag and followed the team to the staging area. The girls changed into their performance clothes quickly and then waited for the half to end. As soon as it did, they took their place on the field and the music started.

Every step, kick, and turn fell exactly into place. The girls were perfectly synchronized in their movements, and when they hit their final pose the audience leapt to its feet. Hermione grinned furiously and tried to catch her breath, but there was no time to wait. She, Blaise, and Stacey rushed to the staging area and changed back into their uniforms before dashing to the opposite side of the field to be announced as members of the Homecoming Court.

"Hermione Granger is escorted tonight by her parents, Mark and Victoria. Hermione plans to study pre-law next year in college, and her advice to freshmen is to try a little bit of everything, but not to bite off more than they can chew," the announcer read. An introduction of this sort had been made for each member of the court.

Once the entire court was gathered on the field with their parents, the Homecoming King and Queen from the previous year stepped forward to announce the new king and queen. Juniors from the leadership class were presenting each senior girl with a long white box.

"It is my honor this evening to present to you this year's Homecoming King, Draco Malfoy," the former king announced. Draco stepped forward, his trademark smirk across his lips and accepted his crown. He returned to the line with his parents as the former queen took the microphone.

"Ladies, each of you have been presented with a rose box. Whomever has the red rose is this year's Homecoming Queen," she announced. There was a pregnant pause as the girls struggled to open their rose boxes. Hermione was shaking so hard she could barely hold the box, let alone get it open. Her father tried to do it for her, but she pulled the box away from him. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you your Queen, Hermione Granger," the girl announced.

Hermione dropped the box out of complete surprise. There had to be some mistake. Her father shoved her forward, and she stumbled to get her tiara. A dozen flashes went off as Draco stepped forward to pose with her.

Fortunately for Hermione, instinct made her smile as though she were not going through shock. The pictures would not show that Draco was supporting most of her weight because her knees had turned to jelly.

"You're okay," Draco hissed through a grin. "Calm down, you're okay," he kept saying, but Hermione heard none of it. The world around her was a blur. Draco led her off the field and handed her off to her mother who gave her a cup of water.

"Could you all just back off for a second?" Hermione could hear her father saying. This meant of course that the paparazzi stepped back a few feet but did not stop firing off pictures. Mark Granger positioned himself on the opposite side of Hermione from his wife, instinctively setting up a perfect photo op. "We are so proud of you," he said, giving Hermione a big hug.

Eventually Hermione snapped out of her daze. Somewhere a switch had flipped in her mind that the last thirty minutes had not actually happened and she had not been crowned Homecoming Queen. That sort of thing only happened in movies, never in real life.

* * *

The Kensington Cougars won their Homecoming game 46-29. Hermione's father drove her home in her car under the pretense that he wanted to see how well the car ran, but Hermione knew he was afraid to let her drive after she had frozen up like that.

"You've got to get over that," he counseled her, trying to be helpful. "You've always done that under pressure, maybe there's a way you can get over it," he suggested. Hermione tuned his voice out and concentrated on taking the pins out of her hair. It fell in ringlet curls around her face and she considered skipping the shower and leaving it the way it was until she remembered how much makeup she had on.

Once she was safely in her bedroom, she looked at herself very carefully in the mirror. Like it or not, she had definitely changed since she had left Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sure, she was still studious. Actually, she was a downright bookworm, always with her nose in a book at any spare moment. She blew the other students out of the water when it came to grades. That much was still true.

But the old Hermione Granger would never have been picked for Homecoming Court. She thought back to the day she and Draco had called their truce. Without him, she would have none of the things she had today. Picking up the picture of her and Draco together in their uniforms, Hermione felt a little warm spot in her stomach. It was small, but it was definitely there. She really did think of him as her best friend. After five years of hating each other, all it had taken was two months for them to turn around and become the best of friends. She set the picture down and got into the shower.

* * *

Hermione could hear the doorbell ring downstairs as she slid into her shoes. She took a final look in the mirror and then took a deep breath. The dress had come out better than she had ever imagined it would. The baby blue taffeta had been transformed into the most spectacular gown Hermione had ever seen. Her mother's stylist had pulled her hair into a low bun at the nape of the neck and dusted some shimmering makeup on her cheekbones and eyelids, preferring to let the dress speak for itself.

Downstairs, her father had answered the door and let Josh into the foyer to wait for Hermione. She could hear them talking about the game earlier that day, and decided to hurry up.

"Oh, Hermione," her mother was the first to speak when she appeared at the top of the stairs. Her hand flew to cover her mouth and her eyes filled up with tears. "You look wonderful," she sighed happily. Hermione smiled and blushed slightly.

"She looks fantastic," Josh informed everyone, as though they could not see for themselves. He took her hand as she came down the last two stairs and slid a white corsage onto her wrist. Mrs. Granger snapped a few pictures of the couple before suggesting that they leave.

"You know how to get there, right?" Hermione asked her mother.

"I do," Mr. Granger stepped up. "We'll meet you there," he told them, motioning for the two to go on. Josh and Hermione were meeting up with the rest of their group at Blaise's boyfriend's house. Hermione's parents were coming along to get group pictures before the kids went off to dinner.

Hermione and Josh arrived at the same time as Pansy and Draco. Looking at Pansy, Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy. The lavender gown was much simpler than Hermione's but was almost more elegant in its simplicity. Even though Hermione's dress had been tailor made for Hermione, she still felt like Pansy's dress fit her better than Hermione's did.

"Ohmigod!" Blaise shrieked, throwing the door open. "You two look absolutely gorgeous!" She came running down the front walk to greet Pansy with a huge hug. The combination of Pansy's lavender gown and Blaise's pale green made Hermione think of Easter. Blaise's dress was more like Hermione's, and Hermione took some consolation in the fact that Pansy looked better than Blaise as well.

"Where are we taking pictures?" Draco asked, leading the group into the house. Hermione noticed that he too had opted not to wear his crown, but instead was carrying it in his hand. The tiara they had given Hermione was tucked safely inside her purse, as though she would rather just pretend it was not there at all.

"Out back, by the pool," Blaise instructed. Hermione followed her outside and was surprised to see the crowd of people who had already gathered. It seemed like the entire football team was there, along with most of the dance team and half the cheerleading squad. They were trying to arrange themselves for picture-taking. Blaise's mother was directing, so Hermione waited for instructions.

Once everyone was lined up the parents started taking pictures. Hermione felt like her face was practically going to fall off from smiling so much that day. After several group shots, the girls were told to step out of the line. Resisting the urge to massage her aching facial muscles, Hermione laughed as the boys struck poses for their pictures. Then the girls had to line up in the boys' places.

After a few shots the girls had to turn around so the backs of their dresses could be displayed. Blaise's mother lined them up so they were all turned at the same angle, peering over their shoulders at the camera. Once the parents were content with the pictures they had gotten in this pose, they started getting creative and taking pictures of their shoes and hair. Then everyone wanted individual shots of each couple, and of course the King and Queen.

Finally someone mentioned that they had a reservation, and the parents allowed them all to leave. Doing a quick head count, Hermione realized they had almost fifty people in their group. Before she got too panicked, she also remembered that they were going to three different restaurants.

* * *

When their group finally got to the dance, Hermione was happy to see that everything was already in full swing. She and Josh rushed to see how all of their planning and hard work had turned out just as the new Ludacris song started blasting through the speakers.

The tables they had set up for the caterers were located on the far side of the gym. Two enormous ice sculptures marked the entrance to the section they had picked for the refreshments. Little tables for two were covered in white tablecloths, each with a mirror in the center to catch the wax from the three pillar candles Hermione had picked as a centerpiece. Little red flowers accented the candles. Behind the tables were the actual catering stations.

Three tables were straining under the weight of two chocolate fondue fountains, ten different kinds of cake, and a make your own ice cream sundae station. Behind all of this, a bartender was distributing non-alcoholic beverages. Hermione had convinced her teacher that the extra expense for the bartender was the only way to keep someone from spiking the punch.

"You'll never be able to top this for Prom," a familiar voice spoke directly into Hermione's ear. She turned to see Violet standing at her elbow.

"Fortunately, that's not my job," Hermione responded, referring to the fact that the junior class was in charge of prom plans.

"It looks great," Violet commended, giving her friend a hug.

"It tastes even better," Holden, a boy from their portfolio class, remarked as he came to stand next to Violet.

"Thank you," Hermione said. She looked at Violet, and then at Holden, and then back to Violet. "Are you two?"

"Um, yeah," Violet knew Hermione was asking if Holden was her date. She waved her hand, as though she were brushing away a fly. "So why aren't you wearing your crown?"

"Do you think I should be?" Hermione asked, pulling it out of her purse. Violet nodded and quickly fastened it on Hermione's head, producing bobby pins out of nowhere. "Thanks," Hermione said.

"No problem. Now go have some fun and get out of my way. I need pictures of your creation," Violet joked. Hermione laughed and allowed Josh to lead her off to the dance floor.

For some reason, Hermione did not have near as much trouble dancing to the music as she had back at Hogwarts. It somehow seemed more natural in this setting. She closed her eyes and leaned back against Josh. His left arm snaked around her waist pulling her a little bit closer.

* * *

Towards the end of the dance, the Homecoming court was presented again. Hermione and Draco were announced last, and then the DJ announced that they would dance the next dance together. So in front of the entire school, Draco took Hermione's hand and led her to the center of the dance floor.

The song the music committee had picked was "Take my Breath Away." Hermione felt absolutely ridiculous, and completely self conscious because no one else was dancing – they had all lined up around the dance floor to watch. She caught sight of Blaise and Pansy in a corner. Blaise was glaring at her venomously, but Pansy just looked sad.

"Ignore them," Draco whispered, pulling her closer, "This is about us."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat at the thought of her and Draco being an "us." She tried to stay calm, but her pulse started racing as she looked into his eyes. He smiled warmly at her, a sight she was still getting used to. Smiling back at him, she felt that warm feeling in her stomach again. Tiny little butterflies danced around in her stomach and she smiled harder. It was like the feeling she got when she had performed perfectly during halftime.

Without thinking, she put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes briefly. As she breathed in she could smell his comforting scent, the one that had lingered on her pillow for a week after that morning he had crawled into bed with her. She lifted her head and realized he was still smiling.

All too soon the song ended and the other students piled back onto the dance floor. Hermione's head was still in the clouds as Josh took Draco's place. The smile on her face stayed for the rest of the night.


	8. Trouble in Paradise

A/N: Alright, time to give a shoutout to my awesome reviewers: Oreo69not96, Aya Yuy P.SII, PoTtErSPaYnE, MermaidQT, Willow23, MusikLuver, and Devilserpent. Also, thanks to FantasyFan who I believe may be this story's biggest fan. If I left you out, I'm sorry. You all are worth writing for!

I'm sorry it takes me so long to update…I try to update once a week. I re-read my first story, Even Evil Hearts can be Broken, and its total crap. Yeah. I thought it was so good while I was writing it, but it's not. Anyway, I'm trying to make this story a lot better. So, ideas and suggestions are greatly welcomed. Not to sound like J.K. but this story is going to get darker, much darker, starting now.

This chapter contains some sensitive material…Just a heads up. Happy Reading!

Chapter Eight

"This is not working, Draco," Pansy sighed. She was sitting on the end of the bed, silhouetted in the darkness. Draco sat up and stared at the back of her head, waiting for her to go on. "I just, there's too much going on right now. I'm not sure about us anymore," she informed him. Draco's jaw dropped.

"What do you mean?" he demanded. His tone was a lot harsher than he had intended it to be. "I'm sure about us," he corrected. "What's wrong?"

"It's not the same anymore," Pansy started crying. Draco pulled her closer to him, and turned her around to face him. He took her hands in his. "I mean, we act the same around each other, but I just don't feel the same way I used to," she sobbed.

"But, I do," Draco protested. "There is a lot going on right now," he conceded. "But that doesn't mean anything is wrong with us," he quickly added. He could feel his pulse quickening and a tight knot forming in his stomach. This was not supposed to be happening right now.

"This whole thing with Hermione," Pansy reminded him, shaking her head. "I don't think I can handle it anymore, Draco," she sighed.

"There is no thing with Hermione!" Draco's voice rose of its own accord. "We agreed to ignore it, remember?"

"I remember, Draco," Pansy's voice rose as well. "But it's a little bit hard to ignore when the entire school is standing there watching you two share a romantic slow dance. Draco, Hermione still has no idea we only voted for her as a joke."

"Oh, for god's sake, Pansy," Draco spat the words at her. He stood up and began pacing back and forth. "I thought you could handle this," he sighed, coming to rest his forehead on the glass pane of the window. Outside, the night was dark; not a single star in the sky.

"I can handle this," she protested, suddenly changing her tone of voice. She wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I can handle this," she repeated, as though it were a mantra. Taking a deep breath, she got to her feet and went to stand with Draco at the window.

He put his arms around her and they both looked out the window at the dark night sky. Pansy shivered involuntarily and Draco pulled her closer to him. She was right, and he knew it. This whole project had put a serious strain on their relationship and it was becoming very difficult to maintain it. Lucius had insisted he keep it up for appearance's sake, and Pansy knew it. Her own father had pushed her into the relationship. She and Draco were good friends though, and so they had agreed.

Over the years they had developed a fondness for each other that occasionally bordered on affection. It was like an arranged marriage almost, the way their relationship had grown. No one would accuse them of being in love, but they were still possessive of each other in a way that proved they cared just enough to keep them together.

Lately however, it was becoming more and more apparent that their relationship had no emotional basis whatsoever. Draco was obviously not in love with Pansy, and while she did not love him either, she did care for him. It was just becoming clear how much more she cared for him than he cared for her.

* * *

Hermione's head was throbbing. This was not a dull ache in her temples; this felt like someone beating her over the head with a sledgehammer. She struggled to open her eyes, but closed them right away because her eyes ached as well. Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt thick and heavy. Struggling to swallow, the unmistakable taste of blood filled her mouth.

Panicked, Hermione tried to sit up, but discovered that her muscles refused to work on their own. She forced her eyes open as they filled with tears. The liquid burned her eyes, and she managed to whimper slightly. It felt like blood was pouring out of her eyes.

"Hey, hey, lie back," Draco's soft voice made her head throb even worse. "You're okay, Hermione," he whispered, noticing how she reacted to his voice. "Everything is going to be okay now."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy burst through the doors of the Hogwart's Great Hall. A collective gasp went up from the students as he stalked directly up to the table where the professors were sitting.

"What is he doing here?" Ron whispered to Harry. Harry shook his head and watched as Dumbledore got to his feet at the same time as Samantha Meurteuil. Lucius drew his wand and pointed it directly at Samantha.

"I warned you, Samantha," Lucius's voice reverberated through the hall. Everyone was riveted to the scene, afraid to move. Harry found his fist closing around his wand automatically. Ginny's hand sought his out under the table. He took it firmly. "I warned you," Lucius repeated.

"Draco is fine," Samantha defended. Lucius's nostrils flared as he exhaled forcibly.

"Students are getting hurt," Lucius roared. "I will not stand for it, even if she was a muggle."

"Hermione," Ron gasped an obvious deduction as Hermione was the only muggle on the trip. The Gryffindors looked nervously at Ron and then back to Lucius.

"Miss Granger is just fine," Albus Dumbledore said clearly and loudly, directing this comment more towards the Gryffindor table than Lucius. "Lucius, Samantha, please come with me. Minerva, will you please?" he deferred to Professor McGonagall who stood up immediately and directed the students to keep eating.

"Potter, Weasley, please come with me," she said sharply, leading them from the hall. She stopped them right outside the door. "Dumbledore wished to let Miss Granger tell you about the incident herself, but seeing as how you have already been informed of it, I feel it may be best to explain," she sighed deeply. "Miss Granger was attacked by one of her fellow students. He tried to," she took a deep breath before going on, "He tried to rape her. Fortunately, Mr. M- another student was there to help her out," she corrected herself, not wanting to tell the boys it was Draco that had rescued Hermione.

Ron felt his temperature climbing, and took a deep breath to keep his anger under control. He wanted nothing more than to find that boy and kill him for even thinking he could lay a hand on Hermione.

"It was Draco who saved her, wasn't it?" He heard Harry asked. Both boys looked expectantly at Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, it was," she replied cautiously. Harry nodded, feeling a newfound respect for Draco, despite his deeply rooted hatred for the boy.

"She wrote us that they had settled their differences," Ron informed the professor. She looked surprised, but quickly covered it.

"Well, maybe now you two will be able to do the same with him," she said, only mildly reproachful. "Go finish your breakfast," she instructed, gesturing back to the Great Hall.

* * *

Hermione heard a familiar hooting noise by her ear and weakly turned her head to see Hedwig sitting on the pillow next to her. She gently stroked a few of her feathers, and the owl nipped Hermione's finger affectionately.

"She got here a few hours ago," Draco's voice startled Hermione, and he laughed gently. "How do you feel?" he asked, suddenly looking very concerned. Hermione opened her mouth and realized it was still dry but the taste of blood was gone.

"What happened?" she croaked, her throat feeling like it was on fire. Draco looked pained. He took one of her hands in his own and absently stroked the palm.

"Do you remember anything that happened last night?" he asked her. She closed her eyes and tried to think.

"What day is it?" she asked after a moment.

"Today is Saturday," he informed her. "Homecoming was yesterday," he prompted. Hermione took a deep breath, and her lungs burned almost as bad as her throat. She closed her eyes again and thought back to the previous day. The parade, the game, the dance – they were all crystal clear. Her eyes flipped open.

"They made me homecoming queen," she remembered. Draco sighed. "I can't believe they did that," she sighed.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked nervously, wondering if she had figured it out.

"Oh, Violet told me she got all of the art and honor society kids to vote for me," Hermione informed Draco, "She never thought it was enough to make me queen though."

"I voted for you," Draco admitted. "But that's because I thought the other girls would be insufferable if they won," he rolled his eyes. Then he got serious again, "Okay, after the dance," he said. "We went to Blaise's house for the after-party."

"We went to Blaise's, and watched a movie, and ate Pizza, and Josh kept bringing me drinks," Hermione struggled to remember anything beyond that. Draco sighed, and Hermione looked up at him. There was a hurt look in Draco's clear blue eyes. He stroked her cheek softly.

"Can you feel that?" he asked. Hermione shook her head no, and his face fell. He took a deep breath. "Hermione, I don't really know how to tell you this," he said, watching her expression carefully. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to go on.

"Oh, my god," Blaise and Pansy burst through Hermione's bedroom door. "Josh is totally expelled," Blaise finished. She and Pansy made themselves comfortable on the end of Hermione's bed. Hermione looked back to Draco, becoming more confused by the second. Her mind was working overtime, trying to piece together the information she had.

"Eww, why is that owl on her pillow?" Pansy asked. "Those are like ten-thousand count Egyptian cotton sheets," she informed Hedwig, motioning for the owl to find a new perch. Hedwig angrily moved to the desk chair, giving Pansy and Blaise scornful looks.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Blaise continued. "Your father totally told the press off this morning. He was giving a statement and they kept shouting questions at him, so he just started yelling at them all. They put out a distance order, so they can't even come near the school," she said.

"Blaise, shut up," Draco snapped, finally unable to take anymore. "Hermione doesn't even remember what happened," he informed the girls. Their eyes got really wide and Blaise's mouth snapped shut.

"I'm piecing it together," Hermione said, her throat still burning. "Josh, he, he gave me something didn't he?" she asked, deducing that it was the drinks that kept her from remembering the rest of the night.

"Yes," Draco nodded. "He was putting roofies in your drinks," he clarified, obviously getting angry as he thought about it. Hermione took a deep breath, and managed to fill in the rest of the blanks herself.

"If Draco hadn't been there," Pansy said absently, confirming Hermione's thoughts. Josh had tried to rape her.

"I went to the hospital," Hermione remembered opening her eyes to bright white lights. She looked down at her wrist to see a plastic hospital bracelet on her wrist.

"Your parents wanted you to come home," Pansy agreed. "They thought it would be better that way," she explained. "The doctors will call when the test results come in."

"Test results," Hermione repeated. She felt tears welling up in her eyes again, and they still burned like they did before. "Why do my eyes hurt so much?" she asked. The other three exchanged glances.

"Pepper spray," a voice said from the door. It was Hermione's mother, her own eyes full of tears. "It's a miracle you're not blind," she said, joining the girls on the bed. She handed Hermione a glass of water, which she eagerly accepted. The water tasted sweet in her mouth, like she had been drinking salt water all day. It felt cool and soothing on her throat.

"I don't think I want to remember," Hermione said finally.

"I don't blame you," Her mother replied, giving her a hug. "What is that bird doing in here?" she said, pulling back from Hermione. Almost as though they had rehearsed it, Pansy and Blaise let out blood curdling screams. Hedwig flew out the window right away, and Hermione was positive the owl would have rolled her eyes if that were physically possible. Draco closed the window and shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe you should call an exterminator," Blaise suggested. Mrs. Granger nodded.

"I think we should let Hermione rest," Draco spoke up.

"Probably a good idea," Mrs. Granger agreed. The girls gathered their things and left the room. "I'll come check on you later, sweetie," she said as she followed the girls out.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, after the door was closed. Hermione nodded.

"It's just a lot to digest," she said. Her throat did not hurt nearly as much. "They had to pump my stomach?" she said, more as though she were seeking affirmation.

"Yeah," Draco said softly. "Look, Hermione, my father is really upset about this. My, uh, real father," he began. "I just wanted to warn you. I'm not sure what he's going to do, but he wants to end this whole project right away."

"No," Hermione protested. Draco shushed her.

"I don't think Dumbledore will let him, but if he does, I want us to still be friends," he said. Hermione smiled.

"I'd like that," she agreed. "I don't know how everyone else-"

"Forget about them. Promise me something, Hermione," he said, taking her hands in his. She looked up at him, a little confused, but his eyes were pleading with her. "Promise me we'll be friends no matter what happens," he almost begged her. "Promise me that you trust me."

"I trust you, Draco," Hermione said, ignoring how foreign the words sounded coming out of her mouth. "I promise we'll stay friends," she added.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy flung his brandy snifter across the room and it shattered immediately upon coming in contact with the stone walls of his office. Brandy trickled down the wall in and out of the crevices in the stone, coming to rest finally on the floor among the fragments of broken glass. A house-elf scampered in with a rag to clean up the mess.

"Leave it," Lucius barked. The elf recoiled and hovered anxiously near the glass. "Go!" he yelled. The elf whimpered piteously and ran from the room, but could not bear to let the mess sit there. Instead he watched the rivulets of alcohol soaking into the stone through the cracked door. Lucius crossed the room to stand at the open window and gaze out at the night.

The black velvety sky had no moon in it that night. A tiny collection of faint stars were barely visible, even from the distant country manor. Lucius took comfort in this fact. It meant that Lord Voldemort was getting even stronger.

He took a deep breath of the frigid air. December was not usually this cold, another fact Lucius found consoling. He had not seen his son in three months, and the thought killed him. How could he know what Draco was really doing if he was not allowed to visit him? The letters they wrote back and forth were closely guarded, and Lucius was left to surmise that everything was going as planned. It made him nervous to consider how close Draco was getting to the muggles around him, especially the Granger girl. This was not the time for Draco to develop a soft spot for muggles. Lucius desperately needed Draco to stay focused on the task at hand.

* * *

"We got a letter from Hermione! We got a letter from Hermione!" Parvati and Lavender squealed, running into the common room. Excited Gryffindors gathered around the two girls and waited anxiously as they tore open the envelope. Harry and Ron stood at the edge of the crowd, more anxious than the others to hear what Hermione had to say. The boys had chosen not to share the details of Hermione's attack with the other students. Instead they just said she had been attacked by a fellow student and Draco had helped her out.

"Dear Lavender, Parvati, and all you other Gryffindors who must be listening," Parvati read theatrically.

"Thank you for all the letters. I am feeling much better after a few days of rest. You don't need to be worried about me, muggle medicine worked just fine. Lately I have been very busy with school and dance, so I apologize for not writing. But I do have bad news," Lavender paused for dramatic effect, and the first years all leaned in to hear the next part.

"I will not be allowed to come home for the holidays as planned," Parvati finished. Harry felt his stomach start to churn. Why had Hermione written this to Parvati and not him? In fact, Hedwig had returned a few days previous with no response.

"Don't worry, I'll send everyone presents from the muggle world," Lavender read excitedly. "Parv, we _have_ to write her about those shoes," she said, forgetting about the letter for a moment.

"Come on, what else is there?" Seamus asked, impatient. He had taken a seat on the floor with the first and second years, and looked rather comical being the largest one in the group.

"She says school is fine, she's applying to some Muggle colleges, and she's going to dance in the Nutcracker," Parvati summarized the last part of the letter, "Oh and she sends her love to everyone." Parvati made a big show of folding up the letter and putting it back in the envelope, just to make sure everyone was watching as she did it.

"Pictures!" Lavender squealed, unable to take it any longer. She pulled another envelope out of her pocket and opened it, then pulled out an enormous stack of pictures. Everyone in the group clamored noisily to be allowed to see them until Ginny marched into the center of the chaos.

"Let me see those," Ginny demanded. Parvati and Lavender exchanged glances as though they were debating on whether or not to let her have them. Ginny snatched them from Lavender's hand and pulled out her wand. The other students all protested until a beam of light came out of the end of the wand and reflected the image of the picture onto the wall.

"How'd you do that?" Ron asked, clearly impressed.

"If you spent half as much time studying as you do talking about Quidditch, you would know," Ginny replied haughtily. "Lavender, would you explain this to everyone?"

"Okay, um, Hermione says this is her house," Lavender read the sheet of paper that Hermione had included. Each picture was numbered, and next to the corresponding number on the sheet of paper was the description of each picture. Ginny sat in a nearby chair and turned the picture around so the house was right side up on the wall.

An excited chorus of oohs and aahs came from the group as each new picture was presented. Hermione had sent pictures of herself as well as pictures of muggle objects that were entirely foreign to some of the students. It had been one of her assignments to take the pictures of the objects, so she had just made doubles and sent them to Lavender and Parvati, quite rightly thinking that those two would share them with everyone else.

"Ohmigod, he's so hot," Parvati said, seeing a picture of Hermione with her homecoming date. Ron's fists clenched, looking at the boy who had tried to hurt his best friend. Harry put a hand on Ron's wrist and shook his head, as though to say "calm down."

"Her dress is so pretty," Lavender breathed. "I'm so jealous."

"SHE MADE HOMECOMING QUEEN??" Parvati and Lavender shrieked in unison, seeing the next picture of Hermione with the crown and sash on. Some of the students looked surprised, but mostly everyone just looked confused.

"It's like, one of the biggest honors in muggle high school," Lavender explained.

"Yeah, you have to be really popular to make Homecoming Queen," Parvati added. "My cousin didn't even make it."

"Doesn't that seem wrong to you?" Ginny asked, looking at the image dubiously. "I mean, this is Hermione."

"What do you mean?" Lavender asked, defensively.

"It just seems totally out of character for her!" Ginny exclaimed. "She's not that type of person!"

"You're just jealous, Ginny," Parvati said patronizingly. "Hermione has been getting a lot of attention around here lately."

"Whatever," Ginny said, tossing the pictures down and stalking from the room. Parvati picked up the pictures.

"I guess that's all of them," she said. The crowd of students began to disperse.

Harry and Ron headed directly up to their room so they would not be overheard as they discussed this latest development.

"Hermione isn't coming home for Christmas," Ron said, suddenly feeling miserable. "Who will I go to the Yule Ball with?"

"Like Hermione would go with you after what happened at the Fall Ball?" Harry snorted. Ron looked uneasy.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Harry studied his friend closely.

"I was referring to the way you ran off with that Angie girl and totally left her behind," Harry said, watching a wave of relief wash over Ron's face. "What did you think I meant?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," Ron mumbled shifting nervously. Harry crossed his arms, not about to drop the subject. Ron sighed. "She and I came back here for a little bit. But nothing happened," he added quickly.

"Right," Harry rolled his eyes. "I think Ginny may be onto something," he changed the subject.

"I think she's nuts," Ron disagreed. "Ginny just wants some attention. After that whole chamber incident she hasn't gotten any and she feels like she needs it."

"Maybe you should just listen to what she has to say," Harry suggested. Ron shook his head no.

"I know you're her boyfriend, and I think it's great you're sticking up for her, but she's still wrong. Hermione just wants to get a good grade, and so she's working as hard as she can to get it. Maybe that requires her to stop being such a bookworm all the time. Big deal, it's good for her," Ron said. He stood up. "Breakfast?"

* * *

Hermione stood at her bedroom window and watched tiny white flakes of snow swirling in the air. She had been out of school for a week with mono, a disease that was relatively unheard of in the Wizarding world, and was about to go stir crazy. Draco had been stopping by every day with her assignments, and getting someone in each of her classes to take notes for her. He sat with her while she did her work and then took it to her teachers the next day so her assignments were not even a day late. Hermione was furious with herself for getting sick during the last week of school before winter break. Now she was missing three weeks of school instead of two like everyone else.

Outside, the gardens were covered in a light blanket of pure white snow. The sun had been hidden behind clouds all day, but the garden lights reflected softly off the snow and made it shine like some kind of frozen paradise. Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes, remembering snowfall in previous years. She slid the window open and ran her hand along the sill, knocking the white powder free.

It was cold, much colder than she had anticipated it being. Had winter always been so cold? She pulled her red fingers back inside the room.

"Thinking of jumping?" a familiar voice asked. Hermione spun to look at Draco, almost like he had just slapped her. For some reason she could remember him asking her that before. He closed the door behind him and set a folder down on her desk. "It was a joke," he said, looking at her cautiously.

"Yes, but," she struggled to remember when he had said it. "You've asked me that before," she said, shaking her head.

"Maybe you shouldn't stand in front of open windows so much," he suggested. "I'm sorry?" he asked, looking at the confused expression on her face.

"It's okay, I'm just going crazy in this house," she said. He grinned at her, and it caught her off guard. She could not help but smile back when he looked at her that way.

"You always loved snow," he said, coming to stand next to her at the window. "I know you're upset about missing the ski trip," he sighed. "It just won't be the same without you."

"Ski trip," Hermione repeated. Every year the Malfoys went to Switzerland to go skiing. They actually had their own chalet, nestled snug in the Alps. Usually, Hermione's family went along, but this year they were not going because Hermione needed to get her strength back up so she would not have a relapse. She would stay at home with her mother and father, while all of her other friends were on vacation. It was going to be the longest, most torturous vacation of her life.

Not that there was not any school work she could be doing. She had a ton of work to do for her portfolio class which would take up a lot of her spare time. There were also a few more college applications to complete, as well as projects and essays to work on. All of her professors at Hogwarts had run out of assignments to give her, so she had no magic assignments for the rest of the year. Hermione supposed that was her punishment for working so hard at the beginning.

"I have an idea," Draco said, interrupting her thoughts. "Let's go for a walk," he suggested. Hermione began to protest, but Draco would not have it. "Just a short walk, around the garden, so you can get out of this house. Bring your camera," he instructed.

Hermione sighed, but she put on some warm clothes and allowed Draco to lead her down to the terrace. The icy air stung her nose and cheeks before she was even out the door. Her winter jacket which somehow managed to keep out the cold alpine air seemed to be insufficient. Snowflakes landed on her eyelashes, and she blinked quickly to set them free before they melted in her eyes.

"It's colder than I thought it was," she said to Draco. He nodded, and began to walk down the stairs to the garden. Hermione followed him wondering if it was even worth it to go for a walk. It was so cold outside that it hurt to breathe.

Draco and Hermione trudged along the garden path, both off in their own thoughts. The air was still and quiet, as though the outside world had vanished. Hermione could feel a sense of anticipation, a certain electricity in the air, the way it felt just before a thunderstorm.

"I broke up with Pansy," Draco said. Hermione turned to look at him, completely caught off guard. A teeny glimmer of hope crept into her stomach, but she tried to push it away.

"But why?" she asked. Draco sighed.

"I'd rather not get into it," he said. Hermione shrugged, and kept walking. "It was time, that's all."

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well, we didn't even apply to the same colleges, for one," Draco said. "I can't be in a long distance relationship with that girl, she's too high maintenance for that."

"Oh," Hermione replied. She could not think of anything else to say, so she left it at that. An icy wind blew across her face, swirling the snowflakes in the air around them as they walked. Hermione began to shiver. Draco looked at her and then back at the path. He sighed.

"We should turn back," he said, grabbing Hermione's arm suddenly. She looked him with a confused expression. "It's too cold for you to be out here," he explained. They walked back to the house, where Hermione's mother greeted them angrily.

"What were you thinking?" She wailed. "There is a blizzard going on!" Mrs. Granger pulled both of them into the house and slammed the door. "Hermione, go get in a hot bath. Draco, your father is waiting for you in the foyer. You both should have known better than that, I am so disappointed," she said, storming from the room. Hermione and Draco exchanged glances and headed for the foyer.

"Hermione, I need to tell you something," Draco said as they moved closer to the front door.

"Yes, he needs to say goodbye," Lucius Malfoy said, interrupting him. Draco grabbed Hermione and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll be back," he said firmly, giving her a look that Hermione wished she could read. He turned and headed directly out the front door. Hermione watched him go and then looked up into the eyes of the real Lucius Malfoy.


	9. Visitors

A/N: I'm very excited…I have 100 reviews. This makes me quite happy.

Just a quick note about reviews, I ask for them so I know people are actually reading my story. If no one is reading, then I'll just write at my own pace for my own enjoyment and not be bothered to post it on here at all. I'm not trying to be greedy, I just want to know my time is well spent. I work 40 hours a week 7am-4pm, with a 45 to 90 minute commute in both directions. So if I don't know anyone is reading this story, then I won't waste my free time posting it on here, I'll just write it for my own personal enjoyment. And I don't really wait until I have the requisite number of reviews before posting the next chapter. Usually it's not even written yet.

That said, since I have so many reviews, it seems like there are a reasonable amount of people reading. So don't worry, I'll keep posting.

I'm off to the beach on Sunday for a whole week, so don't expect anything until the first or maybe even later ::cringes::. Sorry!!

Chapter Nine

Draco leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The airplane was taxiing down the runway, and his stomach was tied in teeny little knots. Flying made him extremely nervous and the snowstorm outside was making matters far worse.

"Don't worry, our Lord will protect us," Lucius whispered to Draco as the jet detached from the ground. They were taking an airplane home because the ministry had refused to set up another portkey unless all of the students were returning for good; it was far too risky. As Draco was not yet licensed to Apparate, Lucius had insisted that the ministry pay for first class tickets, round trip. A lady in the row in front of them turned around and smiled at Draco.

"Our Lord always provides for his devoted children," she said solemnly, with a pronounced southern drawl. Lucius gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Are you two traveling alone?" she continued. She stood up and relocated to the seat next to Lucius. Her short blonde hair bounced as she moved and her perfectly straight white teeth rivaled Draco's expensive orthodontia.

Draco bit his tongue to keep from laughing as the bubbly woman began talking about her work with the Southern Baptist Ministries. She was on her way to Africa to work with famine victims, and she had to make a connecting flight in London. Lucius sat there listening to her babble on and on precociously, and pretended to be fascinated with the woman's story. Draco stretched his legs and began looking through the complimentary magazine the airline had provided.

Winter vacation had come much faster than Draco had expected. He had known for a while that his father would find a way to get involved in this project. It was completely unlike Lucius to let anyone interfere with the plans he had for his son. Samantha had been asking for trouble by sending Draco so far away. It came as no shock to Draco that Lucius had randomly shown up in the states. He probably should have said something about his suspicions to Hermione, so she would not have been caught off guard to see the real Lucius show up at her house.

Draco was surprised to find that he was actually worried about Hermione. Not just because she was really sick, but because he had just vanished with Lucius and she had obviously not been expecting that to happen. He wished there was a way to talk to her without his father becoming suspicious about him showing sensitivity to muggles.

Meanwhile, Lucius was still listening to the woman tell her life story and talk about how she had found Jesus. He nodded appropriately and occasionally interjected a precisely calculated and delicately worded thought of his own. The woman was convinced that Lucius and Draco were also born-again Christians, and Lucius did nothing to dissuade her from this belief. It was almost sick the way he presented his words in such a manner that he actually confirmed her conviction without actually lying to her. Draco knew exactly where this was heading. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, deciding to catch up on some sleep.

* * *

Hermione sighed and put another spoonful of soup into her mouth. Across the table, her mother and father exchanged loaded glances, and then looked back at Hermione. She had not left the house except to attend dance rehearsals since that afternoon one week ago when her mother had scolded her, and she had done nothing but mope around since Draco had left. The doctor had assured her parents that she was just bored, but Hermione knew better.

"Well," her father began, making sure Hermione was looking at him before he went on. "I've decided to announce my bid for senate," he said proudly. Hermione just looked at him blankly, not surprised in the least. Her mother, on the other hand, gasped aloud.

"That's fantastic!" she exclaimed. She gave Hermione a look, and Hermione forced a smile. "When are you going to announce it to the public?" she asked. He began to ramble on about waiting until the time was ripe, and Hermione looked down at her soup bowl letting his words drift away. The surface of her soup was covered in tiny spots of oil, which she quickly dispersed with her spoon. The tomato bisque soup was leaving a nice red ring around the edge of the white china bowl. For some reason, Hermione felt a grim sense of satisfaction upon observing this.

"I hope you all are ready, because this family is about to become very high-profile," Her father said, interrupting Hermione's thoughts. She looked up at him, studying his face. He was not a young man, but his skin appeared elastic and tan. His hairline was showing distant signs of recession - but no gray - thanks to his personal hairdresser. He flashed his brilliant white smile at her.

"You have something in your teeth," Hermione said flatly. Mr. Granger stopped smiling and Hermione could see him run his tongue along his teeth. He turned to his wife for assistance, and Hermione got up from the table. "I'm going to go lie down," she said as she exited the room.

The first thing Hermione did upon arriving in her room was call Violet, who was suffering through Christmas in Paris. A male voice answered the phone and Hermione had to check to make sure she had dialed Violet's cell phone. When Violet came on the phone, Hermione told her of her father's announcement.

"We knew it," Violet proclaimed. "Mom!" she called out to her mother across the room. "Mr. Granger is running for the senate," she yelled. Hermione could hear Violet's mother in the background, clearly expressing how she had always known this was coming.

"Who answered your phone?" Hermione asked. There was a long pregnant pause before Violet responded.

"Holden," she admitted. Hermione could picture her best friend looking incredibly guilty on the other line. "He came along because you were too sick to leave the country, and my mother invited him," she said quickly.

"Are you having fun?" Hermione asked. There was a nervous sensation in her stomach, as though she were about to be sick. The conversation ended quickly, and Hermione lay down in her bed. How was it that everyone around her was having so much fun and she was stuck at home, about to be thrown out to the wolves? The press had always been bad but they were only going to get worse as soon as her father announced his bid for the Senate.

Heaving a deep sigh, Hermione tried to turn her thoughts to something else. The Nutcracker was opening the next night. For once, Hermione was not excited in the least about her performance. She had been passed up for the part of Clara due to her illness. Instead, the role had gone to a girl in Hermione's leadership class who was a junior and constantly asking Hermione for pointers on her "technique". Hermione wanted to strangle the girl sometimes, especially now that she had Hermione's rightful part.

Hermione got up and opened her window to take some pictures of the frozen gardens below. Her completed portfolio was due when she returned to school, and so she had been taking pictures almost nonstop. It was the only thing she had been doing lately that brought her any enjoyment at all. Even reading made her feel like gouging her eyes out, a first for Hermione.

While she was trying to focus her camera lens on the fountain at the foot of the terrace, a rather large bird flew into her room, coming seemingly out of nowhere. Hermione screamed and dropped her camera on the bedroom floor. The owl landed on her dresser making soft hooting noises and looking at Hermione with big beady eyes. Unable to think of anything else to do, Hermione picked up one of her shoes and threw it at the owl.

Fortunately, her parents heard her screams and were in the room after only a few minutes. Her father grabbed a pillow off Hermione's bed and tore the pillowcase off. The owl was now flying frantically around the room, trying to steer clear of his grasp, but he caught it and shoved it in the pillowcase.

"Get Consuela to call animal control," he instructed Mrs. Granger. She headed right out of the room. "Is this the same owl that's been coming around?" he asked Hermione. Hermione shrugged, and he opened the bag slightly to show her. Sure enough, the snowy white owl sat looking quite disgruntled at the bottom of the pillowcase. Hermione nodded, relieved that the owl would finally stop pestering her. Mr. Granger peered into the pillowcase and frowned.

"What is it?" Mrs. Granger asked, coming back into the room. Mr. Granger held the bag where she could see. "Is that parchment?' she asked. Hermione peered into the pillowcase and then reached in to untie the rolled up piece of paper from the bird's ankle. "Oh, be careful!" Mrs. Granger cried out. Hermione pulled the paper out and unrolled it.

"Dear Hermione?" Her father asked, looking over her shoulder. "Is this some kind of joke?" Hermione shook her head and scanned to the bottom of the page to see who it was from.

"You don't know anyone named Harry," Her mother commented, reading the signature. The three looked at each other, all incredibly puzzled.

"How many other Hermiones can there be?" Hermione asked, wondering who this Harry person was and why he would send a letter by owl. The owl hooted angrily at the bottom of the pillowcase and began snapping at the fabric.

"We need to be very careful," Her father said, snatching the letter away from her. "I'll see to it that this doesn't happen anymore. I won't have anyone stalking my daughter," he informed them.

"Oh, Hermione! We need to get to your dress rehearsal," Her mother realized, glancing at the clock. Hermione looked at the clock and put a pair of shoes on. Her bag was already packed with everything she would need for the rehearsal.

"I'll take care of this," Mr. Granger said, following the women downstairs. "Break a leg, sweetie," he said, giving Hermione a one-armed hug with the arm that was not holding the pillowcase. Hermione followed her mother out to the car, wishing that winter would hurry up and leave already.

* * *

"Hedwig still hasn't come back," Harry mourned, scanning the starless winter sky for his beloved owl. "It's been three days," he informed Ron for the fifth time that hour.

"I don't know what to tell you," Ron said, a bit annoyed, "Maybe Hermione is sending our presents. Christmas is tomorrow, you know."

"Maybe," Harry agreed halfheartedly, not moving from the window. He had a bad feeling that Ron was wrong.

* * *

"I want to commend you for your excellent work," a horrific sounding voice said. Each hair on the back of Draco's neck stood straight up. It was unlikely that he would ever get used to hearing Lord Voldemort's haunting voice. Next to Draco, Pansy stood up straight and he could tell she hated the sound of that voice as well.

"Thank you, my Lord," Draco's own voice startled him. It sounded sincere and confident, though Draco felt anything but at the moment. His skin was covered in tiny goose bumps.

"Your progress, Draco, has been quite slow," the Dark Lord continued. "I have been marking it, and I feel as though we must proceed faster from here on out. My followers are returning, but they will not be enough to regain the power I once had. I need you two to begin amassing followers in the states, as well as to continue with your other assignment."

"Yes, my Lord," Draco and Pansy said in unison. Voldemort dismissed them and turned his attention to other matters. Draco and Pansy climbed the dark stone stairs from the damp castle basement to the main floor where Christmas breakfast was awaiting them. The real Lucius and Narcissa were waiting at the dining room table, along with Pansy's parents and Blaise Zabini and her family, to include Samantha and her husband.

"May we open presents after breakfast?" Blaise asked. Mr. Zabini looked at his wife with an amused expression on his face. The atmosphere at the breakfast table was much warmer than that of the dungeon where Lord Voldemort held court. It seemed almost like home to Draco, as though they were all one big family.

"I don't know, who says there are any presents?" Mr. Zabini replied, unable to keep from grinning.

"Da-ad," Blaise whined.

"Of course," her father rolled his eyes in almost perfect unison with the others at the table. This did not stop everyone from eating at a hurried pace. Once the plates were clear, the younger members of the group hovered anxiously at the edges of their seats, waiting to be dismissed.

"Certainly you're not all waiting for me," the grating voice sounded as Lord Voldemort entered the room. "Come, come," he motioned for everyone to follow him. He led them down the hall to the ballroom, where he paused momentarily. "Happy Christmas," he said, pushing open the double doors. The indulgent smile on his face reminded Draco of his grandfather, and he smiled back at the Dark Lord in spite of his earlier misgivings.

Draco felt his breath catch in his throat as the room came into view. An enormous Christmas tree sat at the far end of the room, surrounded by a sea of metallic-wrapped packages that extended from wall to wall of the vast ballroom. It made the tree that usually occupied Malfoy Manor look like a twig. One by one they started making their way into the room. Draco found a present with his name on it and picked it up. As soon as it was clear of the spot, another present appeared in its place with a small popping noise. A grin spread across Draco's face.

It took the group until dinnertime to make a noticeable dent in the presents. Most of the gifts were from the Dark Lord himself, but there were others from friends and family members. When they adjourned for dinner only one layer of presents remained, and there were a few pathways open for walking through.

* * *

Hermione sat at the dinner table wishing that Draco's family had not gone to the Alps for Christmas. Her parents had friends over, of course, but Hermione was the only person under thirty in the room and she was sorely missing Draco's ability to make any horrible social event somewhat palatable.

Instead, Hermione was left to discuss college options and future plans with people she only vaguely knew. As the crowning moment of the evening, her father chose that night to announce his bid for senate to their friends. Hermione anxiously watched the clock, and waited until it was late enough that she could politely go to bed without making her mother furious.

When she got to her bedroom, she discovered a small box wrapped in silver paper sitting on her pillow. She smiled, knowing right away that it was a gift from Draco. After she changed into her pajamas, she sat cross legged on her bed and tore open the wrapping. Inside was a black velvet jewelry box, which she held and ran her fingers over a few times before actually opening it.

Nestled on a little satin pillow inside the box was a simple silver necklace. It was a basic silver chain with a small heart charm, encrusted with some of the most sparkling diamonds Hermione had ever seen. She held her breath as she pulled it out of the box and held it in her hand.

"It's beautiful," she said aloud, wondering how Draco had gotten it to her bedroom without her noticing.

"A beautiful necklace for a beautiful girl," a familiar voice said. Hermione looked up to see Lucius Malfoy standing in the doorframe of her closet. She dropped the necklace, startled.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. He grinned evilly.

"Delivering presents. And finishing up some business," he responded, walking towards her. Hermione could feel her heart pounding, and she was not sure why. This was Lucius Malfoy; she had grown up with the man. He was almost more of a father to her than her own father was. There was no reason to be scared of him, was there? She smiled.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't see you come in the house," she said. He sat down on the end of her bed, far enough away to be unthreatening. Picking up the necklace, he motioned for her to turn around. Hermione lifted her hair off her neck, and Lucius fastened it securely for her. He smiled, seeing it sparkle on her skin.

"My son is thoroughly captivated by you, my dear," he informed her. Hermione noticed just then that his hair fell past his shoulders. Lucius had always kept his hair cut short, or at least that was how Hermione remembered it. She frowned, struggling to remember. "Don't tell me you hadn't noticed," he scolded. Hermione shook her head. "My dear girl, he is completely smitten. He has done nothing but mope around the entire time we've been skiing," Lucius informed her, standing up and heading for the door. "Try not to break his heart," Lucius added, before he closed her bedroom door behind himself. He walked down the hall to an empty bedroom, humming a Christmas carol to himself.

Hermione tried to process the events that had just transpired. Lucius had flown back into town to do business on Christmas day? The man was a workaholic, but this was getting ridiculous. She picked up her cell phone and called Draco, but her call went straight to the answering machine. Disappointed, Hermione hung up and turned out her light. She felt a familiar twinge in her stomach. Draco was "smitten" with her? A smile crept across her face as she played with the necklace around her neck. How had she never noticed until now?

* * *

Draco sat in the living room with Lord Voldemort, sipping at some peppermint hot chocolate and anxiously awaiting his father's return. A sharp crack in the hall signaled that the wait was over. Moments later, Lucius walked into the room still humming a Christmas carol.

"Well?" Lord Voldemort was the first to speak and a chill went down Draco's spine. Lucius smiled vibrantly, making Draco both terrified and relieved at the same time.

"It could not have gone better," Lucius informed them. "Hermione has absolutely no recollection of the Wizarding world, now that Samantha has finally gotten her act together. She is yours, Draco," he explained. Draco felt a twinge of guilt, but forced it to go away. Hermione would understand when the time was right. He forced a smile to cross his face by thinking of her as "his." Draco was not a misogynist, rather he worshipped the female persuasion and their ability to hold him captivated by their enigmatic ways.

"I trust you can handle it from here?" Lord Voldemort asked. Draco nodded.

"Yes, My Lord. Pansy has agreed to help," he said. "When shall I bring her to you?" he asked.

"Spring Break," the Dark Lord replied.

* * *

"Hermione!" Mrs. Granger's voice woke Hermione from her day-dreamy trance. Hermione had been arranging photos, trying to put her portfolio in some sort of working order, and waiting for the reporter to arrive. One of the local news magazines was doing an article on Hermione, for reasons Hermione could not comprehend. She glanced in the mirror and headed down the stairs.

"It is such a pleasure to meet you," the petite brunette gushed, extending her hand to Hermione.

"Nice to meet you," Hermione said, shaking hands with the reporter. Her mother led them into the living room, where they made themselves comfortable and Hermione's interview started.

"So, tell me all about college, what do you want to do?" the woman asked. Hermione launched into her well-rehearsed tirade about Wellesley versus Harvard and Political Science versus Art.

"Was it a total shock to you when your father announced his bid for Senate?" she went on.

"Well, obviously you don't just wake up in the morning and decide to run for Senate," Hermione began. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her father hovering in the doorway. "His friends have been suggesting it for quite some time now. It was always sort of a joke, but I suppose the idea was there. So not a total shock, but a pleasant surprise," she finished, watching her mother's expression carefully. It was impossible to be honest with an audience.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" was the next question. Hermione's hand flew unconsciously to the necklace around her neck.

"Yes, she does," Draco's comforting drawl came from the doorway. He crossed into the room, and Hermione stood up even though she felt like her legs would not support her. Draco gave her an enormous hug and sat down next to her on the couch. Did Draco really mean that he was her boyfriend now? Hermione's heart skipped a beat and she blushed a delicate shade of raspberry.

"How does Dad feel?" The reporter asked, craning her neck to look at Mr. Granger who was standing in the doorway.

"Delighted," Mark Granger responded, flashing a bright smile at the reporter and coming to stand next to his wife. "You don't mind, do you, Hermione?" he asked.

"No, come on in," Hermione smiled phonily at him. The reporter went on and on, asking questions for another hour before she asked to get some pictures. This took another hour of moving around and posing and repositioning.

"This will appear in about two weeks," the reporter said, finally wrapping up the session. "It will go to your publicist first, of course," she said to Mr. Granger.

"Fantastic," he replied, showing her to the door. Hermione sunk into the couch, exhausted. Draco gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she was reminded of the bombshell he had dropped two hours earlier.

"What is going on?" she asked him. He grinned.

"I didn't want the word to get out that you were single," he informed her. "I want you all to myself, if you'll have me," he explained, biting his lip and looking quite anxious, as though it were possible Hermione might say no.

"Absolutely," Hermione responded, unable to contain an ear to ear smile. Teeny little butterflies ran amok in her stomach as she leaned towards Draco to kiss him. Her eyes closed and she could feel him exhale softly before her lips made contact with his.

The doorbell rang just then, and Draco pulled away immediately almost as though he had been stung. Hermione tried to pull herself together as she headed for the door. Draco was right on her heels, putting a hand on the small of her back as she opened the solid oak front door.

"Hermione!" a chorus exclaimed from the front walk. Standing on the other side of the clear glass storm door were three kids Hermione's age she had never seen before in her life. Two of them had flaming red hair and freckles, and the third had unruly dark hair and brooding dark eyes hidden behind a pair of broken glasses.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Draco hissed, pushing past Hermione to stand on the front stoop. The red haired boy's eyes narrowed and he glared at Draco.

"We're here to see our Hermione and make sure that she's not being mistreated by the likes of you, Malfoy," he spat these words as though they left a foul taste in his mouth. Hermione stepped outside, shivering in the cold, and took Draco's arm.

"Draco, do you know them?" she whispered, intending for only Draco to hear. She spoke too loudly.

"Oh, please, Hermione," the red haired boy said. "Don't do this, we flew all the way over here to see you," he pleaded, as though Hermione were only pretending not to know who they were.

"Go back inside, Hermione," Draco instructed, opening the storm door for her. She stepped inside, and Draco pulled the front door closed as well so Hermione could not see what was going on. Pushing her ear to the door, she tried to overhear anything that would tell her who those people were.

Outside, Draco started walking away from the house. He motioned for the others to follow him, which they did after a brief discussion about whether or not it was safe to trust him.

"Hermione is very, very sick right now," Draco said. "I don't know why you felt like you needed to come over here, but I can assure you that this didn't help anything. She's going to spend all her energy trying to remember who you are instead of getting better."

"What happened to her, Draco?" Ginny demanded. "Why can't she remember who we are?" Ginny had stepped forward so she was practically standing nose to nose with Draco. He took a step backwards and held his hands up to keep her from moving closer.

"She was attacked by her date to the Homecoming Dance," Draco said softly, a pained expression coming over his face briefly. "He used some pretty strong muggle chemicals on her, and it's a wonder that she can remember what she does."

"That was almost three months ago," Harry protested.

"Look, I know you don't trust me," Draco said, "But you have to. I don't know anyone else who can explain it to you, except maybe Dumbledore. But I suppose you're not trusting him either since you obviously had to come all the way out here," he sighed and sat down on the trunk of his car. "Can I be totally honest with you?"

"If you're actually going to be honest," Ginny retorted.

"If you don't want to hear it, I won't waste my breath," Draco snapped back. "Believe me or not, I want what's best for Hermione, and if you do too, you'll leave and wait until she comes back to Hogwarts to try talking to her again," he finished, jumping off the car. He began to walk back towards the house.

"Wait!" Harry called out. Draco paused. Harry ran to catch up with Draco. "I want to hear what you were going to say," Harry said. "I believe you'll be honest."

"That was a one-time offer, Potter," Draco grinned evily. "You can thank your little girlfriend for ruining it for you."

"Well, I still appreciate you talking to us. And thank you for taking care of Hermione that night," Harry said honestly. "We all thank you for that."

"Hermione means a lot to me," Draco said nonchalantly, shrugging it off. "See you at school," he said, heading back into the house. Harry watched the door close and tromped back through the snow to where Ginny and Ron were standing.

"Hermione means a lot to me?" Ginny repeated. "Oh, please. This smells incredibly foul," she said.

"I think he was being honest," Harry disagreed. "I really do. Or he would have just let Hermione get hurt that night."

"Well, you have to admit that this whole thing with her memory is incredibly far-fetched," Ron put in. "What sort of muggle chemicals could do that? Is it like a spell?" he asked.

"I don't know," Harry said warily. "I've heard of a condition people get after traumatic experiences, it's called amnesia. Maybe Hermione has that," he suggested. Ron and Ginny exchanged glances.

"Maybe," Ron mused. The three started walking down Hermione's street. "Did you see where Draco had his hand on Hermione when she answered the door?"

"That was nothing compared to where your hands were on Hermione," Harry laughed. Ron blushed and quickly scooped up a snowball to fling at Harry.

"What?" Ginny asked, laughing as Harry wiped the snow from his glasses.

"Nothing," Ron said, glaring at Harry. "Where did we leave our brooms?" he asked, looking around.

"Up there," Ginny said, pointing to a tree up the street. "Uh-oh," she said, squinting at the tree. "Does that cat look familiar to you?" she asked the boys.

* * *

Hermione sat in the Malfoy's basement hot tub between Draco and her mother. Mrs. Granger climbed out to help Narcissa get dinner ready, and Hermione leaned up against Draco. It was two days after Harry, Ginny, and Ron had made their surprise visit, and Hermione had not gotten the chance to ask Draco about it until that moment.

"Who were those people, Draco?" she asked him, as he gently ran his fingertips along her neck. He had been dreading this moment, unsure of exactly how to approach it. For some reason he wanted to break down and tell her the whole story: She was a witch, doing a project for a class at a special school for witchcraft and wizardry, or at least that is what everyone thought. But he also wanted to tell her the truth.

He wanted to tell her about his cousin and how she had set the project up on behalf of Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard of all time – or at least he would be soon. The real purpose of the project was to amass followers in other countries for the Dark Lord.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, sounding very sleepy all of a sudden. He looked down at her, resting peacefully in his arms. She yawned and rested her head back against his shoulder. "Draco, what are we having for dinner?" she asked him.

"Chicken in white wine sauce," he responded automatically, relieved that she seemed to have forgotten about her mysterious visitors for the time being. No, he would not try to explain it all to her, not tonight. He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head, smelling the heavenly scent of her shampoo. Closing his eyes briefly, he tried to memorize that smell. "And for dessert," he whispered, shifting her weight to his right arm. He kissed her softly on the lips. "I think I'll have you," he finished, after breaking the kiss.

"But Suzanne made cheesecake," Hermione protested halfheartedly, a smile giving her real thoughts away. She kissed Draco again, but their kiss was interrupted by her yawning again.

"You may not make it to dinner, let alone dessert," Draco teased. He kissed her forehead and helped her out of the hot tub.

"I know you're going to laugh at me, but I'm really excited to go back to school tomorrow," Hermione said, wrapping up in a fluffy white towel. Draco smiled.

"I would be worried if you weren't excited," he informed her.

"Dinner is ready," Lucius Malfoy announced, coming down the stairs to where the hot tub was located. Draco was relieved to see the imposter back in his father's place. Almost every time he saw his father now there was some question in his mind as to whether it would be the real Lucius or not. Fortunately, the real Lucius had not made an appearance since he had come to collect Draco for Christmas.

Draco followed Hermione and his father upstairs to get dressed for dinner.


	10. The Wizengamut

A/N:  I wanted to post one last chapter before I ran off to the beach. Um…yeah. Don't kill me though, okay?

Chapter Ten

Arthur Weasley stood in front of the full Wizengamut for the second time that year. His heart was pounding as little beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. A soft gasp came from his wife who was sitting beside him. Molly clutched his arm as Ginny was led in the courtroom. The petite little girl looked as though she had been stranded in the wilderness for a year, rather than held in Auror custody for a few days. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin was sallow, and her hair hung in stringy clumps around her head. Professor McGonagall had been right on the heels of Ginny, Harry, and Ron and had escorted them directly back home to the justice department.

Ginny was led to the witness stand where a veritaserum was administered and tested. The Wizards took turns asking her questions about her trip to visit Hermione. Her answers were controlled, but forcibly honest. It was obvious to Molly Weasley that her daughter was exercising a great deal of self-restraint.

"But why did you do it?" a short wizard with a pompous nose demanded. "Why would you risk exposing yourself and our world to countless millions of muggles?"

"Because no one believed me when I said that there was something wrong with Hermione," Ginny snapped, unable to contain herself any longer. "She didn't remember who we were!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. Ginny kept repeating this sentence until she was finally led out of the courtroom. Molly buried her face in Arthur's shoulder, wishing she could comfort her tortured child. There was some discussion among the court members before Dumbledore stood up.

"Miss Virginia Weasley will be treated at St. Mungo's before a sentence is determined. Until that time she will be placed in isolation, under heavy observation," he said solemnly. Molly sobbed inaudibly into her husband's shoulder. Dumbledore sat down and the courtroom doors opened again to let Harry enter.

Harry's examination went much more smoothly than Ginny's had. He was able to speak calmly about the events surrounding their trip and the information he had garnered from his visit. When he was able to confirm that Hermione did not remember who he was, and that Draco Malfoy had also acknowledged this fact, there was a great deal of discussion in the courtroom. Harry was dismissed from the court room, and sentenced to one year in a containment facility until further information could be obtained.

"That's not so bad," Arthur whispered to his wife, trying to soothe her. She shuddered and glared at him. Ron took the stand, but it was quickly obvious that the concern of the court members had turned from punishing the students to Hermione's condition.

"I don't know," Ron repeated, for what seemed like the hundredth time. He was clearly frustrated that he could not provide better answers. "She seemed fine to me until a week or two before Christmas," he said again. Finally, Ron was given the same sentence as Harry and the court adjourned briefly.

"Where is Ginny?" Molly asked her husband. "Can I see her?" she asked. Arthur led his wife to the courtroom doors where the guards informed him that he was not allowed to leave the room yet.

"But I need to see my daughter," he protested. "I work here," he reminded the guard.

"Your presence is demanded at the next hearing," the guard on the left said. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged confused glances.

"But I don't have anything to do with the border dispute," Mr. Weasley protested. The guard pointed to the schedule again, where a new agenda item had just appeared. Next to the 10:15 time slot it read, "The London Ministry of Magic v. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"You cannot pass," the guard repeated. Arthur and his wife returned to their seats, and sat silently staring off into space until the Wizengamut returned.

"Our first witness today will be Mr. Lucius Malfoy," a young wizard announced. Lucius Malfoy walked to the witness stand and sat on the very edge of the seat as though he could not stand to share a chair that had so recently been occupied by someone he thought very little of.

"Tell us, Mr. Malfoy, just why you think this project should come to an end," Albus Dumbledore was the first to speak. He looked harshly at Lucius, having already heard this argument once before.

"I have been against this project since the start. I feel as though our students should not be wasting their time pretending to be muggles when they could be participating in much more rewarding experiences and preparing for their N.E.W.T.s," he began. "I feel as though in these troubled times it is a very bad idea to spread our students out across the globe where they are potentially more vulnerable to attack by those with ill intent. And I have not been wrong. Miss Granger has already been attacked by a muggle, and now this repeated struggle with memory. I am curious to know how these things have enriched her education any."

"I would assume, Mr. Malfoy, that by 'those with ill intent' you mean to say Voldemort and his followers?" another wizard asked.

"Certainly they are a concern, but obviously not the only threat to our students as I have already illustrated with my example of Miss Granger's troubles," Lucius replied.

"Is it untrue, Mr. Malfoy that you have a great deal of hatred for the muggle world?" a petite witch with gray hair asked.

"I despise all things muggle," Lucius responded. "Yet I am able see the value in studying them, and so do not let my opinion color my judgment of this project. I feel as though the students could spend time pretending to be muggles for short periods of time in the close vicinity of the school and still achieve the desired results."

The court members asked him a few more questions and then called Arthur Weasley to the stand. He was asked to talk about the spell that was used for the project and then to give his opinion of the project itself. Molly watched with bated breath, but Arthur delivered the information to the court flawlessly without stumbling over his words. He returned to his seat next to his wife.

"I just said the same thing I said before this project is started. They know all of that information already," Arthur whispered, sounding incredibly frustrated. Molly patted his hand sympathetically and watched the clock, hoping that the hearing would proceed a little faster.

The court adjourned again for lunch after listening to several more testimonies. For the most part, it was all old information. Arthur and Molly rushed to see their children.

"You cannot go in there," a short plump medi-witch informed Mrs. Weasley when they found Ginny's room.

"I am her mother," Mrs. Weasley enunciated each word carefully. "You will let me in this room, that child is under the legal age." The little witch moved aside and Mrs. Weasley burst through the door. Ginny was lying on her side in the bed, heavily sedated. Mrs. Weasley scooped her up in one fell swoop and cradled her against her chest. "My poor, poor baby," she said. Arthur sat down on the bed next to her, stroking Ginny's hair.

"I'm okay," Ginny said slowly, struggling to push the words past the medication. "What happened?"

"Don't worry about it, that's not important," Mrs. Weasley said. Ginny sighed and let her head fall onto her mother's shoulder.

"You did the right thing," a voice boomed into the room. The Weasley family turned to see Lucius Malfoy and McCrone Zabini darkening the doorway of Ginny's room. "You should be commended, Miss Weasley, for the demonstrating the courage and fortitude that you have these past few days."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Arthur Weasley demanded. McCrone stepped forward.

"I want to help your daughter," he said. "I have two daughters of my own, and it is because of one of those daughters that your daughter is in her present state."

"We don't need your help," Molly protested, getting to her feet.

"Oh?" Lucius asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not from you," Arthur agreed. "Please, leave my family alone," he said, motioning for the men to leave the room.

"I must protest," McCrone said. Arthur shook his head.

"No thank you. Please leave," he repeated. Lucius shrugged and followed McCrone out the door. Arthur and Molly sat back down on Ginny's bed. Ginny was now sleeping soundly. "I ought to get back to the courtroom," Arthur said. "You can wait here if you want."

"I'll come with you, she's asleep now," Molly decided. "I'd like to be there for the decision," she confessed, "Hermione is almost like another daughter to me."

* * *

Hermione sat on the edge of her bathtub with one foot propped up, taking her toenail polish off. It had been a very uneventful first day back to school. She was almost sorry she had gone, aside from the relief she had felt to finally turn in her portfolio. Seeing the door open, her mother stepped into the room.

"Can you turn the fan on? I'm getting a little dizzy from these fumes," Hermione asked. Her mother gave her a quizzical look.

"For goodness sake, Hermione, why didn't you let me just schedule you an appointment at the salon?" Mrs. Granger asked, flipping the switch for the fan.

"I thought it would be fun to do it myself," Hermione sighed. Her mother came and sat down next to Hermione on the edge of the tub, facing the opposite direction.

"You know, Hermione, your father will be facing a pay cut when if he's elected Senator, but that doesn't mean we have to give up the basic life necessities," Mrs. Granger said. Hermione was too shocked to speak. Her mother considered pedicures a basic life necessity? "You look awfully pale, are you tired?" Mrs. Granger observed. Hermione suddenly felt like she was about to pass out. She put her foot back onto the floor and turned around so her feet rested on the cool ceramic tile floor. Her vision started to get blurry and dark at the edges, and she struggled to lift the lid on the toilet bowl.

Just as it was open, Hermione's entire body convulsed sending the entire contents of her stomach upwards. She hated throwing up. It had to be one of the more disgusting bodily processes in existence. The feeling of being unable to control her body's actions really made her uneasy. Her mother held her hair back and rubbed her back soothingly, but this gesture made Hermione feel slightly repulsed. She was not a child anymore, what she really needed now was privacy. Flushing the toilet, Hermione collapsed onto the floor feeling stupid and suddenly weak.

Mrs. Granger handed her a glass of water and a tissue. Hermione took these things and mumbled a thank you. Her mother followed her into her room and sat on the edge of her bed. She picked up a random piece of paper that had fallen off Hermione's desk and set it neatly back in its place.

"How do you feel now?" she asked Hermione.

"Horrible," Hermione replied honestly.

"There isn't a chance you could be, um, pregnant, is there?" Mrs. Granger asked nervously.

"No way!" Hermione exclaimed, even though the look on her face had answered her mother's question immediately. She and Draco had definitely not gotten anywhere near having sex yet. They barely had time to kiss with the constant interruptions.

"I just wondered," her mother said softly. "You would tell me, right? I mean, if you and Draco were thinking about-"

"Mrs. Granger, I am disappointed," Draco's voice startled the two women. He grinned at them and came to sit next to Hermione. "Hermione and I have been dating for two whole weeks. I can assure you that nothing of interest has transpired," he informed her. Mrs. Granger sat up straight.

"I just want you to know that I understand," she said. "And you can go on the Pill whenever you want, no questions asked," she added, before standing up. Hermione's cheeks were flaming red by the time the door shut.

"The pill?" Draco laughed. "That woman is missing out," he sniffed, thinking of the Wizarding methods of birth control. Hermione looked at him blankly. "Come on, don't tell me you haven't heard of that, uh, patch," he said, struggling to think of a muggle method. He had forgotten that Hermione could not remember the Wizarding world.

"She has sensitive skin," Hermione informed him. She sank into the bed.

"I was going to take you out for coffee, but it looks like you probably aren't interested," Draco assessed. Hermione shook her head emphatically.

"I just threw up everything I've ever eaten," she said. "Hence the birth control discussion."

"She thought you were pregnant?" he asked. "I was under the impression that she thought more highly of me than that," he sounded insulted.

"It's not about you," Hermione stated. "As soon as a girl hits puberty that's the first question they always ask, no matter what the circumstances. You have a stomach ache? Are you pregnant? You broke your arm? Are you pregnant? It's ridiculous."

"Yeah," Draco was not sure what to say. He lay back on the pillow next to Hermione. "How do you feel now?"

"Better, but not good," she sighed. "Why me? I never used to get sick."

"I dunno," Draco lied, sitting up. His conscience was killing him. Hermione was probably sick from all the magic and manipulation going on with her memory. She sighed again, and Draco decided it was time. "Hermione, I have to tell you something, and you're probably going to hate me after I tell you," he began. She rolled onto her side to look at him, and something in her eyes made him want to cry. He sighed and looked down at his hands. He could not go through with it. "I, uh," he tried to think of something to say.

"What does this have to do with?" she asked. Now he was caught. He tried to think of something, and fast. One thing came to mind immediately.

"Homecoming," he blurted, before he was sure of what he was doing. She raised her eyebrows and waited for him to go on. Draco sighed. "For Homecoming, Pansy and Blaise and I thought it would be funny if you were elected to Homecoming Court. You know, because you weren't that type of person at Hogwarts and…" he trailed off. Hermione just looked at him.

"Draco, I don't hate you," she said, rolling her eyes. She rolled back onto her back. "That's actually a relief," she said. "I couldn't figure how I would be picked for the court. And now I know."

"Well, our joke backfired, because Violet got the whole honor society to vote for you too. Plus photo club. So you ended up winning," he explained. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Typical," She remarked, yawning. "But I don't hate you," she repeated. Draco sighed and kissed her forehead before lying back down. He stared at the ceiling, trying to think of something else to say.

* * *

"It is the opinion of the Wizengamut that the Advanced Muggle Studies project assigned by Professor Samantha Meurteuil places students in immediate and potentially fatal danger and therefore is in violation of the decree for the use of magic, section seven. Said project will cease and desist on Saturday, January the eighth, at which time all students will return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Albus Dumbledore announced to the crowd in the courtroom. Molly Weasley felt her spirits lift slightly, knowing that Hermione would be back under Dumbledore's watchful eye.

"It is also the opinion of this court that the three students tried earlier today were acting in such a manner as to protect their fellow classmates, and hence their sentences have been reduced accordingly. They will each serve one year of community service as a penalty for potentially endangering the lives of the entire Wizarding race," Dumbledore finished. Arthur Wesley gave his wife's hand a happy squeeze. Now all that was left to do was to see Ginny off to the hospital and return the boys safely to school.

* * *

Hermione sipped on her coffee frappachino and waited not so patiently for Draco to show up. It was Friday morning and it was almost time for them to be at the school to leave on their leadership trip. A few selected members of the class were taking a trip to a nationwide seminar for high school leadership students. As much as she thought the class was a joke, she was really looking forward to the trip because it was the first vacation she had gotten all year so far, aside from her bout of mono.

Car headlights appeared in the driveway and Hermione opened the door to start carrying her suitcases out. But it was not Draco who had just pulled in. Violet's familiar bob appeared over the car. Hermione could see Holden sitting in the driver's seat.

"I just came to say goodbye," Violet said, her darkly outlined eyes a little misty. Hermione gave her best friend a hug.

"I'll be back on Monday," Hermione laughed. Violet looked down at her sneakers.

"Yeah," she said softly. "Well, I'll get out of your way, I just wanted you to know that I really liked being your friend, Hermione. And um, write to me," Violet added. Hermione laughed.

"I won't be gone that long," she reminded Violet. Violet's eyes welled up with tears and she ran back to the car without another word. Hermione wanted to run after her, but Holden was already backing down the driveway so instead she went back into the house.

"Who was that?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Violet," Hermione said. "You don't think she would run away, do you?" she asked her mother.

"No," Mrs. Granger replied slowly.

"She was just acting like she would never see me again," Hermione said. Mrs. Granger exchanged a look with her husband and Hermione noticed for the first time that both of their eyes were red, as though they had been crying.

"Good morning!" Draco chirped, coming into the kitchen. He gave Hermione a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Are you all ready?" he asked. She nodded and gestured to her bags.

"Let me help with those," her father said, getting up from his seat.

"That's all you're taking?" her mother asked.

"I am only going to be gone for four days," Hermione reminded her mother. Mrs. Granger bit her lip and followed Hermione out to the driveway.

"I think we're ready," Draco said, looking pointedly at Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Mr. Granger gave Hermione a big hug.

"Make us proud, sweetheart," he said. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to hug her mother.

"I'm going to miss you," she said, getting teary eyed. "I love you, Hermione," she added. "You're the best daughter anyone could ask for."

"I love you too, Mom," Hermione replied. "I'll be back on Monday," she informed them, as though they did not already know. For some reason these words sent her mother into full-blown sobs. Mr. Granger pulled her into his arms and waved goodbye as Draco backed the car out of the driveway. "What is wrong with everyone today?" Hermione asked him.

Draco shrugged, afraid to open his mouth for fear of what would come out. The ministry had taken great pains to keep Hermione from being confused by any Wizarding things before she could be examined by the staff at St. Mungo's. All of the Hogwart's students had received a letter detailing how the end of the project would come about and how they would return home without making Hermione suspicious. Keeping secrets from her was driving Draco absolutely insane. He hated lying to her about so many things. The rest of the car ride was spent in complete silence, and Draco was relieved when they finally pulled into the school parking lot.

All of the other students who were going on the "leadership trip" had already congregated in the leadership classroom. Hermione was surprised to see that Pansy and Blaise were looking very teary-eyed as well.

"I'm going to miss so much stuff here," Blaise wailed. Hermione rolled her eyes and put her suitcases down in the corner with everyone else's luggage.

"Now that everyone is here, I want to get a picture of you all by the statue," Mrs. H said. They all headed out to the school's lobby and arranged themselves around the statue of the school's founder. Hermione found herself sitting on the base of the statue next to Draco. He took her hand and she smiled at him, before the first picture was taken. Mrs. H promised she would just take one more picture.

As the flash went off, Hermione felt like an invisible hand was tugging at her bellybutton. Suddenly Mrs. H and her camera were gone and all Hermione could see was darkness. She could still feel the sensation of Draco's hand in hers, though his actual hand had been ripped from her grasp. Eventually Hermione landed not so softly on solid ground. She looked around to see if she could tell where she was, but nothing looked familiar to her.

Dark stone was everywhere, and the air was thick and musty. Hermione's eyes adjusted to the light and she could see the other students around her. Whatever had just happened had left her feeling a little bit dizzy. A bright light appeared suddenly, as though a door had opened, revealing a staircase. Long black robes descended until Hermione could finally make out the face of the person wearing them. He appeared to be an elderly man with short grey hair and a round face.

"Ahh!" Blaise cooed and rushed into the man's arms. She gave him a big hug and smiled happily.

"How was your journey?" the man asked. He had an English accent and Hermione's pores slammed shut at the sound of his voice, creating tiny goose bumps all over. A chill ran down her spine.

"I've had smoother," Draco responded. The man laughed delicately, which was a much more pleasant sound than his voice but still hollow-sounding.

"And where is your beautiful girlfriend?" the man asked Draco, referring to Hermione. She stepped forward and Draco pushed her a few more feet closer to the man so he could get a good look at her. "You're awfully pale, missy, do you feel quite right?" he asked. Hermione barely had time to shake her head no before she passed out.

* * *

When Hermione woke up again all she could see was Draco sitting by the side of her bed. He had a very sad, solemn expression on his face that Hermione had never seen him wearing before. She reached out and touched his cheek softly, making him jump and grab her hand. In the other hand he grabbed his wand, and then dropped it realizing that it was just Hermione. He forced a smile.

"Hey," he said softly, releasing her hand. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I think my arm is on fire," she replied, looking at it. Draco laughed and took her chin in his hand and kissed her.

"You have an IV," he informed her. She frowned and looked at her other arm, which indeed contained an IV.

"But that's not the arm that hurts," she protested. Draco shrugged.

"I don't pretend to understand muggle medicine," he said. Hermione sighed.

"Muggles are perfectly good with medicine, thank you," she informed him. He smiled fiercely at her, catching her off guard. "What?" she asked.

"You're back," he replied.

"Was I gone?" she asked.

"Your memory, it was gone," he told her. She thought for a moment.

"But I remember everything," she said. "We went to school and sat on the statue and that brought us to the basement with that man, I think he was Blaise's grandfather, and then I collapsed, so I guess you brought me here?" she tried to fill in the ending.

"No, not at all," Draco shook his head. "We went to school and sat on the statue and that brought us straight here for a checkup. You had already passed out so they brought you up here."

"I distinctly remember the basement," Hermione protested. Draco shook his head, laughing.

"Hermione! You're awake!" Mrs. Weasley had been visiting Ginny so she had just stopped by. "I am so glad to have you home; we were so worried about you and your memory."

"I don't remember not remembering anything," Hermione said, making them all laugh.

"Well, I'm just glad that you made it home safely and that there was nothing really wrong with you," Mrs. Weasley said. Hermione smiled and said goodbye to the woman.

"All of our stuff is at school," Draco said. "Even the stuff we didn't pack," he added. "You know Blaise and Pansy would have died if they had been forced to give up all those clothes," he said. Hermione laughed.

"I would have missed some of those things too," she agreed. "So, do you think I'll get to go back to school today?"

"Well, today is Friday, so I wouldn't worry about missing any classes," Draco teased. "The healer said that you would be allowed to go home as soon as you finish your bag of fluid. He thinks you're dehydrated which is why you got sick the other day and this morning after using the portkey," he informed her, stroking her cheek. She smiled, even though a part of her wished that she could be back in the states. Now she understood why everyone had been crying when she left that morning. Fortunately, they would not remember that she had ever even existed, right?


	11. The Return to Hogwarts

A/N: Okay, I am back from the beach. Woo. It was pure torture being away from a computer for so long, let me tell you. I had to write most of this chapter by hand, which takes AGES. It was 18 pages handwritten, which makes about 8 pages typed because I write big. With my revisions, and the end of the chapter it came to 15 typed pages. I got home and went right to work on typing it up, and then I could not sleep so I got up and finished the chapter, and now I'm posting it, so, yes.

A quick aside…if you have read my other story (Even Evil Hearts Can Be Broken), please leave me a review or write me an email with your thoughts on a sequel to that story. I make no promises, I just want to get an idea of how many people want a sequel….

Thank you all for being so patient while I was gone…I had 130 reviews when I last checked! Wohoo!! Keep them coming, please!

Chapter Eleven

"Okay, Hermione, if you saw an old man, who was he?" Draco demanded, completely losing his patience. He and Hermione were riding back to school in one of the "horseless" carriages. The healers at St. Mungo's had pronounced Hermione cured after deciding that the complex spell required to maintain her façade in the States had simply been too much for her memory.

"I don't know," Hermione sighed. She could vividly remember the dark basement and the old man's horrible voice. It could not have been a dream; the memory was far too real.

Hogwarts Castle appeared on the horizon and Hermione felt nervous butterflies form in her stomach. She was not truly prepared for her return to school. Having completed all her assignments for the year, she had not even looked at a textbook in at least two months. But for the first time in Hermione's life it was not her schoolwork that she was most worried about. She had changed a lot in the States and she really did like the changes she had made, but she was worried that her friends would not agree.

For starters, there was Draco. Harry and Ron would just never accept him as her boyfriend, though she planned to make it known to them immediately that she would not tolerate and of their nonsense about it. Ginny would not be as much of a problem because Hermione already knew that Ginny, as well as many other girls in Gryffindor, found Draco to be very attractive.

But then there was the issue of extracurricular activities. Hogwart's did not have a dance team, or any other activities for that matter, aside from Quidditch. Hermione was dreading the long hours with nothing to do after classes. The idea of spending all her time in the library like she used to made her feel slightly depressed.

Hermione sighed again, wishing she could go back to the United States, or maybe even just Muggle School. Draco took her left hand, which had been resting in her lap next to the other one. She smiled at him in the darkness, it being very late at night.

"You're still going to be my girlfriend, right?" he asked her.

"Of course!" Hermione exclaimed. She kissed him on the cheek and he quickly caught her mouth with his own. Kissing Draco was unlike kissing anyone else Hermione had ever kissed. His lips were soft and though he kissed forcefully, it was not a hungry, demanding kiss. Rather it was a gentle, massaging kiss that made Hermione feel as though she could spend entire days kissing him. She tended to get so wrapped up in his kisses that she forgot about anything but the feeling of his lips on hers.

When the kiss ended, Hermione inhaled deeply before kissing him again. She gently pushed his lips open with her own lips, allowing her tongue to measure the deepest recesses of his mouth. She felt his tongue massaging the underside of hers and moaned softly as a shiver went down her spine. They turned to face each other so they would not be straining their necks at such odd angles.

Draco let go of Hermione's hand and began to massage the area just below her breast. Hermione gasped softly but did not push him away. Although she and Draco had been dating for a few weeks they had not had much alone time. Now that she stopped to think about it, this was the first time they had been alone together for more than a few minutes without an interruption. Draco's hands were insistent and Hermione leaned back against the side of the carriage so he could have complete access. He began kissing her neck and sucking gently at the soft hollow at the base of her neck. His hands were slowly unbuttoning the white collared shirt of her Hogwart's uniform, allowing the cool night air to come drifting in around her body. She shivered and reclined further so she was out of the flow of air.

Draco was now lying almost on top of her, kissing his way down to where his right hand was playing with the lacy white fabric that covered her breast. He pulled this aside, freeing her stiff nipple which he immediately took into his mouth. As he occupied his tongue with this, his hands were running along her sides, over her hips, and down her thighs. His left hand moved upwards again, forcing its way between her legs to run along her soft inner thigh. Once he reached the top he grinned viciously, discovering that her soft cotton panties were soaked through. He massaged her there, enjoying how she was squirming against him and moaning loudly.

Finally, Hermione could not take it any longer and she sat up, forcing Draco to lean back against the opposite wall of the carriage. She straddled him and began to kiss him furiously, letting her tongue dart in and out of his mouth rhythmically. Her hands moved down, unfastening his belt buckle and delving into his pants, searching for-

"No, stop," Draco moaned. "Hermione, stop!" he shouted, gently shoving her away. She sat up looking hurt. "We're here," he told her, just as the carriage jolted violently to a halt. Hermione crawled off of Draco's lap and buttoned up her shirt. Her nipples were still straining through the fabric so she pulled her school robes around her like a kimono as she climbed down from the carriage. The dampness between her legs just felt slimy now. She headed for the castle doors, grateful it was well past curfew.

Draco gave her a goodnight kiss in the foyer and they went their separate ways for the evening. Hermione went right to Gryffindor tower. The common room was dark for the night, but she could still see the welcome home banner that was hanging above the fireplace. As she got closer to her room she could hear excited voices talking in a loud whisper.

"Oh that one is so pretty! Do you think it was made for her?" Lavender's voice was the first Hermione could hear clearly.

"Maybe. Do you think she would care if I tried it on? Just for a second," Parvati was holding the black evening gown Hermione had worn to the Malfoy's New Year's Eve Bash.

"Go ahead," Hermione said aloud, coming into the room. She could tell why the girls had gotten curious; her belongings now took up half of the room. Lavender was looking through the suitcase Hermione had packed for her leadership trip. Parvati squealed delightedly as she slid the zipper up the side of the dress. "It looks so much better on you than it did on me," Hermione informed her. "Keep it," she decided, seeing Parvati's reflection in the mirror.

"Are you serious?" Parvati asked, spinning around to look at Hermione, who nodded. "Ohmygod," Parvati gushed, rushing to hug Hermione, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"You're welcome," Hermione laughed, picking her way through the mess.

"I'm so sorry we just went through your stuff," Lavender apologized, looking sheepish.

"It's quite alright," Hermione assured her, selecting a pair of pajamas from an open truck. "Help yourself, anytime," she gestured to the piles of clothing.

It seemed that everything from her home in the States had been transferred here. Even her computer sat in the corner though Hermione did not know why – the technology was useless inside Hogwarts. Perhaps the wizards who had collected her belongings did not know what it was and therefore had no idea it was of no use to her now. Hermione looked at it sadly, deciding she had no choice but to send it home to her real parents.

"Pictures!" Parvati shrieked, unearthing shoeboxes overflowing with 4x6es. Hermione sighed and took one of the boxes away from Parvati. She sat down on her bed and the two other girls came to sit next to her.

"I had planned to put these all in albums, but I never had the time," Hermione shook her head, looking at the pictures her mother had taken on the first day of school.

"So, you and Draco, huh," Lavender teased.

"Yeah, bet no one saw that coming," Hermione said cockily. Lavender's jaw dropped.

"No way," Parvati protested.

"Yes way," Hermione replied, a smile coming to her face. She grabbed another box and dug through it until she found the pictures she was looking for – the ones from New Year's Eve.

"Ohmygod!" Lavender exclaimed, grabbing the picture of Hermione and Draco kissing at midnight out of Hermione's grasp. "She's not lying!" she tossed the picture to Parvati.

"I am so jealous," Parvati gushed. "Has he popped your cherry yet?"

"Parv! You can't ask her that," Lavender scolded.

"I just did!" Parvati protested. "Has he?"

"Well, no," Hermione responded, turning purple.

"See, I knew she was a virgin," Parvati responded. Lavender hung her head.

"I didn't think you were," she admitted to Hermione. "Not after your night with Ron, I mean, you didn't act like you were, not that he deflowered you," she sputtered. Hermione just laughed.

"I'm going to bed," she decided, putting her pictures away. "We can talk more tomorrow."

"Oh, tomorrow's a Hogsmeade day, you should come with us," Parvati remembered, getting into her bed. Hermione nodded, pulling her covers up.

"Goodnight," Lavender whispered as she shut the lights off.

* * *

"Try this on," Parvati suggested, handing Hermione a short denim skirt.

"Parvati, there is a foot of snow on the ground," Hermione reminded her, selecting instead a pair of jeans and a sweater.

"Okay, okay, but wear these boots," Parvati relented, thrusting some brown boots into Hermione's arms. Hermione rolled her eyes but put the boots on. The girls headed down to grab a quick breakfast before heading off to Hogsmeade.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed as she sat down to eat. Hermione raised her hand as if to say hello but did not sit with him or say anything at all. Ron looked at Harry, who just shrugged. The girls grabbed their toast and a bagel each and headed off.

"Come on," Harry said to Ron, standing up. Ron shoveled a few more bites into his mouth and then followed Harry out of the Great Hall. Harry was already approaching Hermione. "Are you going to Hogsmeade?" Harry asked.

"Um, yeah," she replied, as though it were obvious.

"I guess we'll see you there," Ron spoke up.

"Yeah, see you," Hermione replied, following Parvati out the door.

"I don't understand," Harry said, fastening his jacket. "It's like she wants nothing to do with us."

"It's not _like_ she wants nothing to do with you," A female voice snapped. "She _does_ want nothing to do with you," the voice corrected. Harry and Ron looked up to see Blaise Zabini standing in front of them. To Harry's recollection this was the first time she had ever bothered to speak to them. She was looking down her nose at the two boys, her long brown hair pulled up into a ponytail with the ends curled.

"And why is that?" Ron demanded. Blaise shrugged, zipping up her pale pink ski jacket.

"Maybe she found someone to replace you," she suggested as she pulled her white gloves on. "Someone with a bigger dick. Rumor has it yours is lacking," she quipped. Ron blushed as Blaise walked away and Harry burst out laughing.

"It's not funny," Ron snapped.

"Oh, forget about it, Ron," Harry laughed. "She doesn't know what she's talking about, not when it comes to Hermione anyway."

"The rest of it's not true either," Ron protested. Harry burst out laughing again. "It's not!"

"Come on," Harry said as he struggled to regain his composure.

* * *

Hermione stepped into the dimly lit store and looked around. There was a comforting feeling about Wizarding stores that very few muggle stores could capture. To Hermione's left was row after row of clocks, ticking at random, none set on the exact same time. To her right were stacks of books almost as tall as she was. Straight ahead she could see a table covered in miniature tea sets and other porcelain knickknacks. Parvati pushed past her and disappeared around the corner. Hermione followed at a much slower pace, taking everything in as she walked by.

She finally caught up with Parvati behind a rack of vintage dress robes.

"Oh those are so cute," Lavender remarked, coming up behind Hermione. She grabbed a blue set off the rack.

"They're not bad," Hermione wrinkled her nose. The robes were musty, and the one Parvati was holding up had a stain on it.

"Did you get to go to any Wizarding functions in the states?" Parvati asked. "What kind of dress robes do they wear over there?"

"Well, they're a lot like the ones we wear," Hermione began. "They are shorter, and more low cut, but not much different otherwise," she explained. Lavender pulled apart two robes and a small bat flew out. The girls jumped and Lavender let out a small shriek. They left the robe section and began browsing through the rest of the store.

Parvati picked up a small glass jar that was shaped like a Chinese lantern. She lifted the lid and a thin wisp of silvery vapor came drifting out. Looking around nervously, she clapped the lid back on. Hermione caught her eye and the two girls began to giggle. Lavender grabbed a ceramic hand labeled for palmistry and compared it with her own hand.

"Let me see your hand, Hermione," she directed, grabbing one of Hermione's hands. Hermione rolled her eyes as Lavender examined the lines on her hand. "I see passion," Lavender joked. "You will fall deeply in love with a blonde-haired boy," she added. Hermione jerked her hand away and playfully slapped Lavender.

"I'm hungry, we should get some lunch," Parvati suggested. Lavender nodded, but Hermione looked around.

"What's up those stairs?" she asked. Parvati and Lavender exchanged glances. Parvati stepped closer to Hermione.

"That's where they keep the Dark Arts stuff," she whispered. Hermione looked at the stairs.

"Let's go look," she suggested, feeling strangely bold. She headed for the stairs. Lavender started to follow her at a safe distance. Parvati sighed and joined Lavender. They girls made their way up the staircase slowly, one step at a time. Hermione could feel her heart pounding faster with each step she took.

Suddenly a small animal stepped out of the shadows, into Hermione's path. She jumped as the animal bared its fangs at her. Lavender and Parvati grabbed hold of Hermione's arms and they turned around and bolted down the stairs, directly into Harry and Ron. The two boys did not look very happy.

"What were you doing up there?" Ron demanded, grabbing Hermione's shoulders. She shook free of his grasp immediately, her fear turning to anger.

"That's none of your business," she snapped. "Don't you ever touch me like that again." She glared at him.

"That _is_ my business," Ron retorted, taking a step closer to Hermione.

"Actually, it's not," a new voice interjected. The group turned to see Draco coming down the stairs. He came to stand behind Hermione, and put his hands on her shoulders. "And you will never touch her again, Weasley," he ordered. Ron opened his mouth but no sound came out. Hermione stalked away, Draco, Lavender, and Parvati in tow.

"Did you see the look on their faces?" Parvati squealed when they were out of the store. Lavender giggled maniacally. The sunshine outside was a sharp contrast to the dim lighting in the store, so their faces were squinty while their eyes adjusted.

"Now I have a lot of explaining to do," Hermione groaned as they headed into the Three Broomsticks. Their eyes readjusted to the dim indoor light again as they made their way through the crowded tavern.

"Fuck them," Draco suggested, sliding into an empty booth. Hermione sat down next to him and he put his arm around her. Parvati and Lavender slid into the seat across from them, and they all examined their menus.

"Harry and Ron are my oldest friends, I can't just dump them," Hermione laughed. "I definitely owe them an explanation," she decided. Draco sighed.

"She's right," he said to Parvati and Lavender, who nodded in agreement. Hermione noted gleefully that both girls seemed a bit spellbound by Draco's presence. She looked around the tavern inconspicuously, and realized that most of the Hogwarts students in the restaurant were also staring at her and Draco. For some odd reason, Hermione felt a surge of contentment upon seeing this and she placed a delicate kiss on Draco's cheek.

They ordered lunch and talked a little bit about what Hermione and Draco had missed while they were away. It came as no surprise to Draco that the highlight of the year so far was his father's intrusion at breakfast. He sipped at his butter beer and wished that her and Hermione were back in the States at Starbucks or even just alone anywhere. There was so much he was dying to tell her, so much that would have to wait until a better time.

* * *

Hermione slid her white knee socks gracefully over each calf before fastening her black Mary Janes. Just before she pulled her gray sweater over her head she felt strong hands grasp her upper arms.

"Leave it," Draco whispered in her ear. Hermione spun to look at him.

"How did you get in here?" she asked. He smirked at her.

"I took the stairs," he replied, as though she should have known that.

"But then you would have had to get into the Gryffindor common room, past all of the Gryffindors down there, and up the stairs to my room which turn into a ramp when a boy tries to walk up them," she informed. He just laughed.

"I didn't take _those_ stairs," he said evasively. Before she could push him for more information he stepped back and looked her over appraisingly. She turned so he could see her from all angles. "I think you should leave these too," he decided, pulling her skirt up to tug at her pink panties. She squirmed out of his grasp.

"I don't think so," she laughed. Draco looked at her very seriously.

"I do," he said, as though that decided the matter. She shook her head, as he pulled her closer to him.

"We're going to be late," she whispered before his lips closed over hers. This fact did not deter him from his course, and soon Hermione found herself lying on her bed struggling to catch her breath. Draco was leaving tiny kisses all over her stomach and she giggled, slipping out of her button down shirt.

"I like this color on you," he commented, reaching around her back to unfasten the pale pink bra that matched her panties. She grinned and craned her neck to kiss him some more but he pulled away. "I suppose you're right, we will be dreadfully late to class if this continues," he decided, standing up. Hermione's jaw dropped as he handed her bra back to her.

"You're serious," she said. He flashed his white toothy grin at her and tossed her shirt to her. She heaved a sigh and buttoned her shirt up, shaking her head the entire time. Tossing her robe on, she grabbed her books, noting with dismay that her panties were damp. Draco sighed and stepped in front of her.

"Give them to me," he demanded. Hermione's brow wrinkled.

"I said no, Draco," she said firmly, still thinking about her panties. Now it was his turn to look upset. His hands came toward her and for a second, Hermione thought he was going to hit her. Instead, his hands landed on her books, which he yanked away.

"I meant these," he informed her. Then he grinned. "But I'll take your panties if you want," he offered. Hermione rolled her eyes but gave him a brief kiss on the lips and headed down the stairs to the common room.

* * *

Hermione took a seat next to Parvati when she got to breakfast. Draco gave her a kiss on the cheek before he went to his own seat at the Slytherin table. Harry and Ron gave him death glares before turning to Hermione.

"Will you please explain to us why you suddenly want nothing to do with us?" Harry demanded. Hermione very delicately selected a piece of toast and began buttering it.

"Look," she began, "I've been friends with the two of you since first year. I love you both dearly, but sometimes you're so stubborn and pigheaded that it's not even worth trying to talk to you," she paused to cut her slice of toast in half.

"What are you getting at?" Ron asked as Hermione took a small bite.

"I know you don't like Draco," she said when she had finished chewing. "But he's my boyfriend now and there is nothing you can do about it, so don't even bother giving me crap about it," she informed them. Ron sighed and looked down at his plate. Harry set his fork down and took a sip of his juice.

"Okay," Harry said. "And you didn't think we could handle Draco being your boyfriend?"

"I'd say she made a pretty good diagnosis of the situation," a voice said. Harry and Ron looked up to see a familiar face standing behind Hermione.

"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed, jumping to his feet. Hermione scooted over to make room for their friend.

"So let me get this straight," Ginny said, turning to Hermione. "You and Malfoy are together, and they're not happy about it?" she asked. Hermione nodded. "No surprises there. I'm actually proud of you for confronting them about it so soon. As stubborn as the two of you can be, she should have made you wait at least a week," she laughed. The boys rolled their eyes and Ginny turned back to Hermione. "So you're sure you're not under some kind of spell? Let me see," she began feeling Hermione's forehead as though she was checking for a fever. "Better check for the Dark Mark, you never know," Ginny laughed, pulling Hermione's right sleeve up. The skin was clear so she pulled the other sleeve up.

There was a thick white bandage wrapped around Hermione's arm from mid-forearm to mid-bicep. Everyone at the table stared openly until Hermione pulled her sleeve back down.

"They did some tests, on my memory," Hermione stammered. "I also had an IV, because I was dehydrated."

"You can get ivy from being dehydrated? Like the rash?" Ron asked.

"She means they put a needle into her vein to put fluids directly into her bloodstream," Ginny said as she rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

"It's alright, I have nothing to hide," Hermione could barely believe the words flowing freely out of her mouth. Nothing to hide? The IV had been in her right arm, and it was lucky for her that the only person who knew that was sitting at the Slytherin table. She glanced at her left arm and remembered the burning sensation she had felt in the hospital. What was under that bandage?

"Mail's here!" Parvati sing-songed as the air filled with hundreds of owls. Hermione looked up and smiled, grateful for the distraction. She was surprised to see Hedwig coming straight for her with what looked like a copy of _Newsweek_.

"Thanks," she said to the owl, who dropped the magazine in her lap. "I owe you an apology," she cooed. Hedwig turned her back on Hermione, who gave Harry a sheepish look.

"Ohmygod!" Parvati shrieked, grabbing the magazine from Hermione. "You're on the cover of this magazine!"

"Oh no," Hermione sighed, grabbing it back. It landed face up on the table and everyone within earshot leaned in to see that Hermione was indeed on the cover of the magazine.

"You look a lot better in that picture," Ron commented. Ginny smacked him upside the head.

"He's got a point," Parvati appraised. Hermione glared at her and then picked up the periodical.

"My father is running for the senate," she informed everyone. She was met with a bunch of blank stares. "It's the muggle form of government in the States. Each state, there are fifty, elects two people to the Senate, and my father is trying to be one of those two people," she briefly summarized. "Anyway, they thought it would be a good idea to do a story about me, but I don't know why they still ran the story if I'm not there anymore," she continued, opening the magazine to the table of contents. There was a smaller picture of her on that page saying that her story began on page 25.

Flipping to that page, Hermione quickly began to read the article. She was disappointed, but not surprised, to discover that it was mostly about her father. Shaking her head, she passed the magazine to Parvati who was practically breathing down her neck trying to read over Hermione's shoulder.

"Who's Violet?" Ginny asked suddenly. Hermione turned to look at her, and Ginny held up a piece of photograph paper that someone had scrawled a letter on.

"She was my best friend in the States," Hermione said, becoming very confused. She took the note from Ginny.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I miss you already even though you've been gone less than a day. I don't even know why I'm writing to you, I don't have your address at school, and your parents don't answer the phone anymore. We got this magazine today; I wish I could send it to you so we could laugh about how stupid they made you sound. There are a lot of things that I wish, but mostly I just wish I had decided to go to boarding school with you too. It's too quiet here without you. _

_-Violet._

"Boarding school?" Parvati asked. "I thought these people weren't real," she turned to Hermione for an explanation.

"I thought they weren't either," Hermione sighed. "I have to ask Professor McGonagall about this, I'm so confused," she decided, getting up from the table. She took her letter and the magazine and rushed out of the Great Hall.

Before she could get very far, she heard someone calling her name. She turned around to see Draco jogging towards her.

"What's the matter?" he asked immediately. Hermione shook her head.

"Our families in the United States, weren't they just holograms? Projected images?" she demanded. "Weren't we supposed to be erased from the memory of everyone we came in contact with who was real?"

"We have been," Draco said plainly. "Our parents can't be real," he reasoned. Hermione handed him the letter from Violet. He skimmed it and looked up at her. "You're overreacting," he said.

"How?" she demanded.

"Read the letter! She says, 'you've been gone less than a day.' The odds are that we were still at the school while she was writing this, and so the spell hadn't ended yet. She wouldn't have a clue who you are now. As for this magazine, it never hit newsstands," he assured her. "The Ministry of Magic would never have let it be released to the public. Trust me."

"He's right, you know," Madam Meurteuil's voice startled Hermione. The woman walked over to where the two students were standing. "I sent these to you, I thought you might like to see them, but I suppose I went about it the wrong way," she smiled at Hermione. "No one has seen this magazine but you and the people you've shared it with. I had to copy it on my own, because I knew the originals would be destroyed when the spell was ended. But I thought you might like to see it."

"Thank you," Hermione replied, unsure of what else to say. She actually had forgotten all about doing the interview for the article. Madam Meurteuil smiled at her.

"Don't be late for class, you two," she said before sweeping off down the hall. Draco gave Hermione her letter back and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"I don't suppose you'd like to come back to my room and just skip going to muggle studies, would you?" he asked, only half joking. Hermione gave him a look. "It was worth a shot," he informed her. She smiled and gave him a kiss.

"I don't know why I let myself get all worked up about this stuff," she sighed as he pulled her into his arms. "It makes sense now that I think about it."

"I don't know what to tell you," he sighed. Hermione looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back and kissed her.

"Oh, gross," a familiar voice sounded. Draco pulled away from Hermione and glared at his cousin.

"Catch sight of a mirror, Blaise-y?" he asked. Blaise gave him a dirty look, and then glared at Hermione before trouncing by. Hermione saw Pansy following behind her, not glaring at Hermione, but instead just looking very sad. Draco put his hand on Hermione's cheek and pulled her lips to his again. "I suppose we should be on our way," he sighed, taking her hand. "Just ignore her, she wants me," he said passively.

"You're her cousin," Hermione reminded him. He gave her a sideways glance.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" he said flatly. Hermione burst into a fit of giggles. "That's better," he said, smiling at her. "You're beautiful when you smile," he told her, bringing that warm sensation back into Hermione's stomach. A brilliant smile spread across her face.

* * *

Hermione awoke in the middle of the night, two nights after the magazine incident. Her left arm felt as though it were on fire again, and the pain was next to unbearable. She whispered for her wand to illuminate and she pulled her pajama top off. The white bandage was still in tact on her arm, and she started to tug at the bottom of it. It was fastened tightly, and did not budge, no matter how she tried pulling at it.

By now the pain in her arm was blinding. She fell out of her bed and haphazardly put her top back on. The fire in the fireplace went out, robbing the room of all light except for the tiny light at the end of her wand. A grating noise came from the fireplace and Hermione's heart pounded faster and faster.

"Lumos," a male voice whispered, and suddenly Draco's face was visible. Hermione ran over to him and he wrapped his arms around her. "Get some robes and slippers," he whispered. Hermione did as he told her and he pulled the blanket off her bed. "Look at me," he whispered. She looked directly into his eyes. "I want to hear you say that you trust me," he hissed.

"I trust you, Draco," she said without hesitating. He did not even smile. Instead he put his arm around her and started leading her towards the fireplace.

"Then you know that I'm not going to let you get hurt," he whispered, taking her wand away. Her heart started pounding again and she felt a little bit panicky.

"No," she whispered. "Can I have my wand back?"

"Later," he pushed her into the fireplace, and she found herself walking down a set of stairs. Hermione's mind was racing. She trusted Draco, but not this much. He was much stronger than she was; there was no way she could get away from him now. "Just trust me," he said, sounding very different than he usually did. These words made Hermione want to trust him even less.

At the bottom of the stairs there was some dim light, and Hermione realized that she was in Draco's bedroom. She could hear his roommates snoring soundly as he firmly took hold of her right arm. The pain in her left arm was making her feel weak, and she realized that was no accident. It was all she could think about anymore. She barely noticed when Draco led her out of the castle into the freezing cold snowy night.

"Drink this," someone said to her, sounding very far away. Hermione opened her mouth and it was filled with a warm liquid. She swallowed helplessly, until no more came. After a few moments, everything around her was dull. Her vision went blurry, the pain in her arm subsided, and all she felt like doing was sleeping. She was vaguely aware of someone holding her up.

Suddenly everything became clear to her again. She sat upright and looked around. It took her a few minutes to realize that she was in Draco's bed.

"What just happened?" she asked herself aloud. Next to her, Draco stirred in his sleep, and Hermione shook him awake. He refused to wake up, and she shook him harder. "Draco, Draco, wake up!" she demanded. She repeated this command, becoming increasingly more desperate the more he refused to awake. Finally he sat up as though something had jolted him awake.

"What's the matter, why are you crying?" he asked, pulling her close to him. Hermione pushed him away.

"What happened? Where did you take me?" she asked him. "You have to answer me!" she pleaded. Draco looked at her, tears streaming down her face and felt awful. He had no idea where to begin, or even how to break the news to her. All he could see was his angel, his beautiful girlfriend, sitting next to him and crying bitterly.

"I don't know where to start," he sighed. "I didn't want this to happen this way," he added. Hermione waited for him to continue. "This is killing me," he admitted. "I didn't expect it to, but it is," he sounded genuinely surprised.

"You're talking in circles," Hermione broke in.

"Just, let me get there," he pleaded. "I guess I have to show you this," he said, pulling his shirt off. He extended his left arm to show her the Dark Mark, still black, burned into his skin. Hermione closed her eyes as a silent cascade of tears came pouring out. She could barely breathe, as she pulled off her own shirt. Draco reached out and began unwinding the bandage from around her arm.

"No," Hermione whispered, putting her hand on top of his. He pulled away and pulled the last bit of bandage away from her arm, to reveal that she too had the Dark Mark. "No," she whispered, sounding defeated. Draco felt tears coming to his own eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Hermione repeated the word no, and Draco felt his heart break in two. "I'm sorry," he repeated, this time sounding desperate and so painfully sincere that Hermione could feel time stop moving and the world just start spinning around her, closing in. Draco pulled her into his arms and she allowed him to hold her this time.

After they had calmed down and sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, Hermione slid down and put her head in his lap.

"He was the old man," she said. Draco smiled, in spite of the situation.

"Yes, he was the old man," he confirmed. Hermione sighed.

"Will you tell me what's going on?" she asked. Draco nodded, and took a deep breath. He had rehearsed this speech in his mind hundreds of times, but he still felt unprepared.

"I've wanted to tell you for a while now," he began, just like he had practiced. "The truth is, the whole muggle studies trip was a hoax on the part of those loyal to the Dark Lord. He needed to build a following in other countries, so that's what we did," the words rolled off of his tongue too easily, but she did not seem to notice. "There are Death Eaters in five countries now," he said, almost proudly. "The Dark Lord will be stronger than he was the first time he rose to power," he said softly, unable to shake the feeling that he was betraying her worse than he had been before.

"Where do I come in?" Hermione asked, her voice wavering. Draco felt as though she had driven a knife into his heart.

"You're one of his followers," he said, deciding to tell her as little as possible in the hopes that she might not ask for any more information. "Tonight, you pledged your unending loyalty to him," he added.

"But I was drugged," she protested, crying again. Draco sat her upright.

"Look at me," he said. She looked into his eyes. "You were not drugged. That was a veritaserum," he informed her.

"I don't believe you," she said. He forced his face to look hurt, but deep down he was proud of her.

"I thought you trusted me," he said, looking away.

"I did," she said, getting out of his bed. Without thinking, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the bed.

"You have to stay here," he said. Her eyes were wide, and he could see that she was no longer angry, just scared. "I won't hurt you, but you have to stay here," he said. She thought for a moment, and relented. "I owe you an apology," he said.

"That's an understatement," she scoffed.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," he said, ignoring her comment. "I'm sorry for lying to you, and for betraying you, and keeping secrets from you," he said, taking her hands. "Please look at me," he begged.

Something in the way he said those words made her look at him. She could tell from the way he was talking that he really was sorry, but she was not sure she could forgive him. When she looked into his eyes she could see a new emotion, something she had never seen in his eyes before.

"I have to tell you this, before it kills me. I haven't said anything, because I wasn't sure how you would react, but I think it's time I said it, because you need to know," he began, taking a deep breath. Hermione held her breath too, waiting for him to continue. "Hermione, I love you," he said, saying the first completely honest thing he had said all night.

At that moment it was as though someone had flipped a switch in her brain. Though she had been crying all night, she started to cry again. All of the hurt and the anger she had been feeling just ten seconds ago washed away. She flung herself at him, and kissed him, and hugged him, and smiled for the first time that night.

Draco looked down at the girl in his arms and kissed the top of her head. She had taken that incredibly well. He had expected her to leave when he said he loved her, but instead it was like she had gone into some sort of alternate mode. Now she was kissing him and hugging him and laughing and crying all at once.

"I'm going to kill you," she said, when she finally regained her composure. He raised his eyebrows, but he was smiling. "I can't believe you," she shook her head, unable to stop smiling.

"Are you still mad?" he asked, tentatively.

"I'm totally furious," she replied honestly. "But I think I'll get over it," she decided. Then her face got very serious. "If you ever lie to me again, I _will_ kill you," she threatened.

"Deal," Draco agreed, extending his hand. She shook it, and then smiled and gave him a huge kiss.

"Draco Malfoy, you have just made me all at once the angriest and the happiest girl in the entire world," she informed him, before yawning. "And the most exhausted," she added.

"Well, then I suppose we ought to get to bed," he suggested, pulling back the covers. Hermione snuggled up next to him, and he put one arm around her.

"Oh, and Draco?" she whispered into the darkness.

"Yes?" he asked, afraid of what was coming next.

"I love you too."


	12. The Dark Mark

A/N: I apologize for such a short, uneventful chapter. This is really just intended to clean up some stuff from last chapter. I've been agonizing over it, so I figured I'd just get it done with.

Thanks to all my awesome reviewers! Keep the reviews coming, I love them, they make me feel so much better about my work and they make me want to write faster.

Chapter Twelve

Hermione woke with a start only moments after the sun had risen. She looked at Draco sleeping peacefully next to her, his arm still around her waist. It had been a comforting gesture last night, but this morning it felt heavy, like a chain. He did not wake when she shimmied free of his grasp, and she was grateful for this. She needed a few moments alone to reconsider what had happened.

It had been so easy the night before, in the rush of emotions, to forgive him for what he had done. But all the love in the world could not change the fact that he had still betrayed her, he had broken her trust, and now she would have to do the same to many of her friends. If she had thought explaining her relationship with Draco to Harry and Ron was difficult, imagine explaining that she was now one of Lord Voldemort's followers. Not just a supporter, but a full-blown Death Eater at that.

She heaved a shaky sigh and turned to look at Draco. He was still fast asleep, as though he had nothing to worry about. And she supposed he did not have anything to worry about, after all, he got what he had wanted: A perfect little Death Eater girlfriend. Hermione felt tears coming to her eyes. This was all happening way too fast.

She headed for the fireplace and began to run her hands along the heavy mahogany paneling. Somewhere under the mantle she found a circle of inlaid wood that she pressed. The fire extinguished itself and a faint crack of light outlining a door appeared. Hermione pushed on the wood and the door popped open. As she stepped through, the door sealed itself behind her and she hurried up the stairs. Listening for a moment to be sure her roommates were still asleep, she pushed the door open on the other side.

Draco would know right away where she had gone as soon as she woke up, so she decided to head down to the prefect's bathroom for a shower. At least then she could have some privacy while she thought things over. She gathered up her things and headed off.

In a few minutes she was standing under a stream of hot water, just enjoying the feeling of the water on her back. She wiped her face clear and opened her eyes. Staring up at her was the Dark Mark, an ugly pink scar on her upper arm. It was positioned just right so she could wear a short-sleeved shirt and the mark would not be visible. She sighed and ran her fingers over it. It felt just like a keloid scar normally did - rigid and slightly rough.

Hermione closed her eyes and leaned against the wall of the shower. She adored Draco, she really did. The very thought brought a smile to her face. But she still was not sure how she felt about being a Death Eater. Harry and Ron had never done anything to hurt her, and here she was, pledged to work for their sworn enemy. How many other seventeen year olds were suffering from this kind of drama?

Turning the water off, Hermione decided she needed more information. All she had ever heard about Voldemort was that he was a bad man with bad intentions. But that had not come from very objective sources, had it?

* * *

Draco woke up and found himself alone in his bed. He swore aloud, and leapt from his bed. Quickly, he reached for the button on the fireplace and burst directly into the girls' bedroom. Lavender and Parvati shrieked as he stepped out of the fireplace.

"Shut up," he said. "Where's Hermione?"

"We don't know, she was gone when we woke up," Lavender replied. He went over to Hermione's bed and verified that she was not in it. Looking around the room, Draco's eyes landed on the towel rack in the corner. Hermione's towel was missing.

"Maybe she went to take a shower?" he asked. Parvati looked at the towel rack.

"I guess," she agreed. Draco raced back through the fireplace and went straight to the prefect's bathroom. He stood outside, waiting impatiently. At last the portrait swung open.

"Ron!" Draco snapped, unhappily realizing that he had missed Hermione. Ron's eyes widened upon realizing that Draco had said his first name.

"Yes, Draco?" he asked tentatively. He winced at how horrible the name sounded coming out of his mouth.

"I, uh, thought Hermione might be in there. You caught me off guard," Draco shook his head.

"She's already gone to breakfast," Ron said, his brow furrowing. "She actually said she had to meet you there," he recalled.

"Did she?" Draco asked. "Thanks," he added, before hurrying to the Great Hall. He half expected that she would not be there when he managed to get there, but to his surprise she was actually waiting outside.

"There you are!" she said impatiently, standing on her toes to give him a kiss. "It's waffles for breakfast this morning," she informed him. He released the breath he had been holding and followed her inside.

"You ran off," he said, expecting an explanation. She shrugged.

"I wanted to get the shower first," she said. Draco sighed and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I don't believe you, but that's alright," he decided. "See you after breakfast," he said. She nodded and sat down with Ginny. If he could not be completely honest with her, then he could not expect her to be completely honest with him.

* * *

Hermione made it to Potions early because Madam Meurteuil let them out early. She sat down in her seat and started reviewing the notes she had taken the class before.

"Come with me," Pansy said, taking Hermione by the arm and leading her out of the classroom. Hermione followed her, mostly just out of curiosity. Pansy let her into a nearby bathroom and quickly checked to make sure it was empty. "If you're going to be a Death Eater, there are certain rules you have to follow," she informed Hermione. Hermione opened her mouth to explain that she was not sure about being a Death Eater, but Pansy interrupted. "I don't need to hear it, just listen," she said firmly. "We don't go out without looking our best," she informed Hermione. "That means you have to get up and do your hair and makeup before class in the morning," she went on.

"I did," Hermione protested. Pansy looked her over and shook her head. She pulled a cosmetics bag out of her purse and handed it to Hermione.

"I'll help you," she sighed, unzipping the bag. Hermione watched as Pansy selected a few colors of eye makeup and blended them on Hermione's eyelid.

"You're not upset at me because of Draco, are you?" Hermione asked. Pansy looked at her and then went back to smearing eyeshadow.

"Don't be dumb," she said, saying the first really mean thing Hermione had ever heard her say to her specifically. "Draco and I were only together because our fathers wanted it," she admitted. "You're the one he really cares about, and he has for a while."

"What?" Hermione asked. Pansy shook her head.

"Don't talk," she replied, picking out a lip color. Hermione sighed and pushed her lips into the wad of toilet paper Pansy handed her. "Come to my room, after dinner," Pansy said, walking away. Hermione watched her go and then looked into the mirror. Pansy had done a good job.

She hurried back to class and made it just before Snape came sweeping in the doors. Across the room, Parvati mouthed something at her. Hermione shot her a confused look.

"You look cute," Pansy hissed at her, interpreting Parvati's lip spasms. Hermione nodded and smiled at Parvati.

"Thanks," she whispered back to Pansy. Snape tossed a book in her general direction and she quickly snapped to attention.

"Now that Hermione Granger's social hour is over," Professor Snape began. "We'll begin class with a practical exam. Take out your cauldrons," he said as the class groaned.

* * *

"Hey, where are you going?" Ginny asked when Hermione got up from the dinner table later that night. Hermione smiled.

"The library," she said. Everyone rolled their eyes.

"Typical," Ron remarked. Hermione shrugged and hurried off. Instead of going to the library, she went right up to her room and headed down into Draco's bedroom. He smiled at her when he saw her come through the fireplace.

"So you've figured out my secret passage," he commented. Hermione nodded.

"Where did that come from?" she asked. He grinned.

"Actually, it's for the house elves," he admitted. She laughed. "If you go up to the Slytherin common room and down the next set of stairs, Pansy's room is the third one down," he informed her. She paused.

"You're not going to be there?" she asked. He shook his head.

"I've been forbidden," he told her. "Girls only."

"Great," Hermione sighed, and headed up to the common room. Fortunately, there were no Slytherins lurking about in the common room to be upset by her presence there. She supposed this was intentional. Still, she hurried down to Pansy's room.

"Good, you're on time," Pansy smiled as Hermione peeked into the room. "Come on in," she said, pulling the door open. The room looked like an exact copy of Hermione's except in Slytherin colors. Pansy shared the room with Blaise and Millicent Bulstrode.

"Millicent is off to the library," Blaise announced, coming in behind Hermione. "Hermione! I feel like it's been ages since we've gotten to hang out," she cooed. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Forgive her," Pansy said. "Come sit down," she offered, sitting down on her bed. Hermione took a seat.

"Okay, so I know you're dying to know what you're doing here," Blaise said, sitting down on her own bed across from Pansy's. Hermione nodded. "Well, first of all, we're on the same team now, so I think we should agree to reconcile our differences," she decided.

"Alright," Hermione agreed, tentatively.

"But mostly, it's our job to get you oriented as a Death Eater. I know you have a ton of questions," Pansy interjected. Hermione nodded. "Alright, well, where should we start?" she asked, looking at Blaise.

"Okay, well, first things first, the deal is sealed," Blaise said. "You've pledged your allegiance to Our Lord, and so now the only way to back out is to die," she said. "I know it sounds extreme, but from now on you're going to have access to a lot of top secret information and so if you change your mind about your loyalty, we have to kill you so that information doesn't get into the wrong hands."

"Also, Lord Voldemort can hear your thoughts. He won't punish you for thinking about things, but if you do something against him, then you're in trouble. He knows everything," Pansy added. "That's partly why he contacted us. He knows you're conflicted, and so we're here to make things a little bit easier for you."

"Wow," Hermione said, letting all of this information sink in. So she was backed into a corner. It was accept her duties as a Death Eater or die. "What do I have to do?" she asked, realizing she did not really know what she had to do as a Death Eater.

"Well, this is the part where things get a little hazy," Pansy said hesitantly, looking at Blaise.

"You probably won't like this part much," Blaise admitted. Hermione waited for someone to continue.

"Lord Voldemort doesn't really feel like women are emotionally capable of doing anything too…tasking," Pansy searched for the right word. Hermione raised her eyebrows, getting an idea of what she meant by this. "I know you've heard of female Death Eaters who've done important things but they have to go through a lot to prove that they can handle a position in the inner circle. Mostly, we just show up when we're told to."

"Sometimes we do little projects, like recruiting and orienting," Blaise spoke up. "It's not all parties and getting presents," she defended.

"Presents?" Hermione asked. The girls nodded emphatically.

"He likes to give presents," Pansy informed her.

"So, all I really have to do is be loyal," Hermione assessed the information she had been given. The other two girls exchanged glances. "And look good doing it."

"Well, sort of," Blaise looked a little bit uneasy.

"Someday, we'll have to have children," Pansy said. Hermione's mouth formed an o.

"And then we have to raise them to be loyal to Our Lord?" Hermione asked. The girls nodded. "I get it," she said, a sense of relief washing over her. She could handle this. If they were telling the truth, it seemed to her she could be a Death Eater and not really do anything to hurt Harry or Ron. Though she was a little bit disappointed that Lord Voldemort had turned out to be such a chauvinist, she also felt better about the whole mess.

"So, are you mad at Draco?" Blaise asked. Hermione nodded emphatically.

"I could kill him," Hermione said, realizing she was still furious at him. "Harry and Ron were my best friends, and now they have to be my enemies," she realized. Maybe this was not going to be as easy as she had thought it would be a few minutes ago.

"You have to forgive him," Pansy sighed. "I know it seems impossible, and he did a really shitty thing, but you two are on the same team now," she informed Hermione. Hermione sighed.

"He thinks I already have," she told the girls. "And I thought I had last night, but this morning it seemed like everything was wrong. How can I forgive him when he lied to me and betrayed me, and now I'm forced to lie to and betray my friends as a result?" she asked. Blaise and Pansy exchanged glances.

"Don't think of it like that," Blaise suggested. "Look at it from another angle. You just got two awesome new best friends, and your boyfriend makes you the envy of every girl in school. And you don't have to really stop being friends with Ron and Harry, at least not consciously. Lord Voldemort will want you to keep up the appearance for a little while."

"I guess so," Hermione was not really convinced, though Blaise had made some good points. She could not just change her ideals and everything she believed in overnight. It would be a big adjustment.

"I think you'll find it's easier than you think it will be," Pansy said, almost as though she could read Hermione's thoughts.

"I wish you could be in Slytherin," Blaise said suddenly, surprising everyone in the room. "Then you could be our roommate and we wouldn't have to deal with stinky old Millicent," she explained. "She'll be in soon, it's almost curfew."

"Ugh," Pansy sighed. "I guess you'd better go, Hermione," she said. Hermione nodded and got to her feet. "We'll see you tomorrow in class."

"Goodnight," Hermione said, heading out the door. She went back to Draco's room, once again finding the Slytherin common room empty.

"How'd it go?" Draco asked, looking up from his potions textbook when Hermione came in the room. She heaved a sigh.

"Basically they told me I couldn't hate you for much longer because I have to make babies for the Dark Lord," she replied. Draco's face went very pale.

"What?" he asked, his voice sounding very small. Hermione broke into a grin. "That's not funny," he scolded, getting out of bed.

"You couldn't see your reaction," Hermione replied, giggling. She gave Draco a hug. "I don't hate you, but I am angry."

"I know," he sighed. "I can't do anything about that."

"Just be patient," she suggested, shrugging her shoulders. "Goodnight, Draco," she said, heading for the fireplace.

"Hey! Don't I get a goodnight kiss?" he protested. Hermione shook her head sadly.

"Not tonight. I'm sulking," she responded, stepping into the passageway. Draco sat down on the edge of his bed, feeling deflated. Had she always been such a roller coaster of emotions or was it just him bringing it out in her he wondered. He decided it was probably his fault and got back into his bed, wondering what would happen when the rest of the story came out.

* * *

"Ouch!" Hermione wailed as Parvati's wand slipped and hit her in the ear. Parvati was helping Hermione curl her hair using a spell and Hermione was beginning to wonder if maybe she had been better off doing it herself.

"Sorry," Parvati apologized. She bit her lip and concentrated on holding her wand steady. "So, you never really told us why you're getting all dolled up," Parvati pressed. Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"I just felt like doing something different," she said nonchalantly. "I get bored with the same thing every day."

"Uhuh," Parvati was not convinced but Hermione did not care. After a few more mishaps with the wand, she stepped back to admire her work. "There, you're beautiful," Parvati announced. Hermione ran to look in the mirror.

"Thank you," she said, pleasantly surprised by what Parvati had accomplished. "Now for my makeup," she said, flinging open a nearby trunk and pulling out an enormous cosmetics bag. Parvati's eyes widened.

"Holy Shit, Hermione," she whispered. "That stuff is so expensive," she came to peer into the bag.

"I would let you borrow it, but I'm afraid I'll run out," she said, looking unapologetic. Parvati sat up.

"I understand," she said, giving Hermione a strange look. Hermione shrugged it off. Maybe she had been a little rude about it, but it was the truth. If they were as expensive as Parvati said they were it was unlikely she would be getting replacements anytime soon. She finished her makeup quickly and headed down to the Great Hall.

"Hey, you look nice today," Ron commented as Hermione took a seat. She smiled at him.

"Thanks, Ron," she was surprised he had even noticed, and now felt doubly guilty for keeping the secret from them. This was not going to get any easier as time went on. It was not like someday she would be able to tell them she was a Death Eater. No, they would have to find that out the hard way.

Hermione set her fork down, suddenly not feeling very hungry anymore.

"Good Morning, Beautiful," Draco said, giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek and taking her books from her. She forced a smile to her lips, lest someone suspect that things were not going well. There was no good way to explain it, and after her tirade on Monday about how he was her boyfriend and they could not change that, she did not have the energy to deal with the I-told-you-sos.

"He seems to treat you well," Harry remarked. Hermione nodded, and pretended to drop her napkin so no one could see the tears forming in her eyes. Harry was going out of his way to find some redeeming quality in Draco, and Hermione was spitting in his face. And deliberately misleading him by not telling him the truth about how Draco treated her. Oh God, she was going to be sick.

Jumping out of her seat, Hermione headed right out of the Great Hall, ignoring the concerned questions coming at her from her friends. She dashed into the bathroom and managed to make it to the toilet just in time.

When she emerged from the stall with teary eyes and a runny nose, she was surprised to see not just Ginny, but Lavender, Parvati, Blaise, and Pansy all looking at her with concerned expressions. Pansy passed her a tissue for her nose and they all just stared.

"I feel better?" Hermione asked, wondering what they were expecting. They just kept staring until Ginny worked up the nerve to speak.

"There's not a chance you could be pregnant, is there?" she asked, sounding a lot like her mother. Hermione just glared at her and headed for the sink to rinse her mouth out.

"I think we can handle things from here," Blaise said, in her sickeningly sweet I'm-trying-to-be-nice-though-you're-beneath-me voice.

"Excuse me?" Parvati demanded.

"Why are you even in here?" Lavender asked, backing Parvati up. Blaise gave them a tight-lipped smile.

"I think Pansy and I are closer to Hermione than you three are. We can take care of her," she replied.

"What?" Ginny roared. Hermione could feel her head start pounding. "I don't think so," she began, and went off on a tirade about being Hermione's best friend and how no stupid project could change that.

"Alright, well, I tried to be nice," Blaise sighed. "Now shut up, and get the fuck out of here," she spat at the Gryffindor girls.

"Fuck off and die, you turbo slut," Parvati replied, aiming her wand at Blaise.

"Alright, cut it out!" Hermione snapped. Parvati lowered her wand and they all turned to look at Hermione again. "Ginny, Parvati, Lavender, I appreciate your concern. I'm just fine now, go finish breakfast and tell the boys I'm okay," she instructed. The three girls looked insulted, and Ginny's jaw dropped open.

"You can't be serious," Parvati crowed. Hermione could feel her head throbbing.

"I said _get out_!" she yelled. The Gryffindor girls headed out of the bathroom, clearly upset by her decision to stay with Blaise and Pansy. Once they were gone, Hermione sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

"Cut it out," Blaise demanded.

"Blaise, it's okay, we're alone," Pansy contradicted. She knelt down next to Hermione. "It's alright to be scared," she said to Hermione.

"I'm not _scared_, I just hate hurting my friends," she sobbed. "They're trying so hard to be nice to me and to find good things about Draco, and all I'm doing is stabbing them in the back."

"Look," Pansy sighed. "Really, you're doing them a favor. They're going to be so much better off in the end," she informed Hermione. "Someday they'll understand why you did it."

"But I didn't even do it!" Hermione cried. "Draco did, he drugged me, and apparently I pledged my allegiance to the Dark Lord and I didn't get a choice."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Blaise interrupted. "You weren't drugged, honey," she said, coming to sit on the ground with them. She looked as though she was kneeling in the middle of a slum, but she joined the other two girls.

"That was not a veritaserum," Hermione protested. She was not dumb.

"She's thinking of Wednesday night," Pansy informed Blaise. A look of comprehension came over her face.

"Oh! That wasn't Draco," Blaise laughed. "That was me, and you're right, it wasn't a veritaserum. It was just to help you with the pain, but apparently you didn't eat much dinner that night so it was a little too much for you."

"What?" Hermione was incredulous. "If I was passed out, how did I pledge my allegiance?"

"Oh good grief," Blaise sighed. "You didn't swear your oath that night, Hermione. You did that _before_ you got the Dark Mark, before we even came back here."

"Now you're really lying," Hermione was livid. "I passed out then too," she reminded the girls. Pansy and Blaise exchanged glances.

"There's only one way to fix this," Pansy sighed. "Come on," she said, grabbing hold of Hermione's hands and hoisting her to her feet. Blaise and Pansy helped Hermione re-assemble herself and then they led her from the bathroom.

* * *

"Professor!" Blaise called out, jogging slowly down the hall after Professor Snape. He spun on his heel to see who was addressing him and when he saw that it was Blaise and Pansy, his expression softened.

"What is it, Miss Zabini?" he asked, looking the most approachable Hermione had ever seen him.

"Do you think we could come to your office and talk?" she asked him. His eyes moved briefly to Hermione and then he nodded.

"Just so long as you're not going to be late for class," he agreed. The girls followed his billowing black robes down to the potions classroom and then into his office. He conjured up three comfortable-looking chairs and then lifted a silver teapot off a burner behind his desk. "Cocoa?" he offered. Blaise and Pansy nodded eagerly, so Hermione also accepted a steaming hot mug. She had never seen this side of Professor Snape, but she supposed it had to do with the fact that he was not only the head of Slytherin House but also a Death Eater.

"Hermione is having trouble with her memory," Blaise explained. "She doesn't remember getting the Dark Mark." For a moment, Snape looked amused, but then he looked Hermione over very carefully.

"You were having memory problems while you were overseas, were you not?" he asked. Hermione nodded.

"I was told that I forgot about being a witch and everything I knew about the Wizarding world," she informed him. "But I don't remember forgetting those things."

"Hmm, why am I not surprised?" He said. Hermione wondered if he was mocking her, until he spoke again. "Miss Granger, you received the Dark Mark before your memory was reset, or whatever they called it at St. Mungo's," he informed her. "I was there, I definitely remember you agreeing to become a Death Eater," he added. "However, I would assume that your memory of this event was erased because it seems that all of your memories during the time when you could not remember the Wizarding World were erased as well," he decided.

"So I swore an oath to Lord Voldemort while I didn't even know what the Wizarding World was?" Hermione asked. Snape looked at Blaise and Pansy before responding.

"Yes, it would seem as such," he said cautiously. Hermione took a shaky sip of her cocoa. This new information made the situation completely different.

"_So Draco took advantage of_-" Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by Professor Snape slamming a thick textbook on his desk.

"Stop blaming Draco for this!" he shouted, returning to the Snape that Hermione was familiar with. She jumped, taken aback, and then realized he must have read her mind. "Yes, Miss Granger, I can hear your thoughts right now," he confirmed. "Clever, isn't it?"

"Actually, it's rather uncomfortable," she replied.

"Uncomfortable is good," he responded. "Because it's a form of fear, and fear is easily changed into other forms of emotion – like anger. And anger is incredibly useful, Miss Granger," he explained. "Now listen to me. You made a choice. Somewhere in your mind you were able to form a rational argument for becoming a Death Eater. Now you're rethinking it," he paused.

"It's not like I have a choice," she said.

"You have a choice," he contradicted. Hermione shook her head.

"It's be a Death Eater or die," she reminded him.

"How do you know it would be different if you had chosen not to become a Death Eater?" Snape asked. Hermione was not sure what he was asking. "How do you know that you would survive this war if you had not become a Death Eater? How do you know you wouldn't have died trying to fight against Voldemort?"

"I don't," she said firmly.

"And there's the rub," Professor Snape stated. "Now you will live," he assured her. "Unless you decide you would rather die than follow Voldemort. Because you could do that too, you could turn your back on your friends, your boyfriend, your family, and the Dark Lord, and say you would rather die. Sure, your name would go in the history books and your funeral would be in the papers, but would you really do that to your friends?"

"Haven't I caused them enough pain by becoming a Death Eater?" she snapped.

"Your thought process is completely wrong," Snape shook his head. "Look at it this way, your friends in Gryffindor love you unconditionally as friends should. You snubbed them while you were overseas and they forgave you, and they will forgive you for becoming a Death Eater. And now you are getting new friends who are also Death Eaters. Why would you want to give that up?" he asked.

Before Hermione could respond he continued, "You also have Draco, who loves you more deeply than I have seen anyone love another person in many years. I know you are angry with him, because you think he betrayed you, but you are wrong. He did nothing. The Dark Lord transported all of you to him _before_ you returned to the Wizarding world. He told you about being a Death Eater, what you would have to do, and what it meant. You agreed before you spoke to anyone else about it. Draco had nothing to do with any of it."

Hermione leaned back in her chair, thinking about what she had just been told. Snape was presenting a very logical argument and Hermione was struggling to find fault with it. She highly doubted that Harry would forgive her for becoming Death Eater, even though they had been friends for a long time. But there was a small voice in her head that told her there was only one way to find out.

Draco burst through the doors of Snape's office, startling everyone inside, and looked around. He went straight to Hermione's side.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, looking truly concerned. Hermione nodded. Snape just looked amused.

"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked. Draco sighed.

"Yes, Professor," he admitted.

"Then I suppose I'll have to write all of you a pass for class?" Professor Snape decided, pulling out a piece of parchment.

"Actually, Potions should be starting now," Blaise spoke up. Snape glanced at the clock and got to his feet.

"Excellent. Then I trust none of you will be late," he said, before heading into the classroom. Hermione took a deep breath and stood up. She felt less conflicted than she had before her talk with Snape, but still uncertain. What had he meant when he said Draco loved her more deeply than he had seen anyone love another person for many years? Could he read Draco's thoughts too? And could he read her thoughts all the time? Because that would definitely be uncomfortable.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Draco asked, taking her hand cautiously. She nodded and gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind," she said honestly. The group headed out to the potions classroom, only to find that Snape had gone ahead and started class.

"Get here on time, please," was all Snape said, as he noticed them taking their seats. Ron and Harry shot Hermione surprised looks, wondering why Snape had not taken points from her. She shrugged and ignored the death glares she was getting from Parvati and Lavender. Taking out her quill, she furiously copied down the notes Snape had written on the blackboard.

* * *

"Prefects, please wait a moment," Professor McGonagall said as she dismissed Transfiguration class later that afternoon. Hermione sighed and remained in her seat next to Ron. Harry gave them a sad smile and whispered that he would see them in the common room.

"What are these?" Draco asked, as their professor placed sheets of parchment on their desks in front of them.

"These, Mr. Malfoy, are your applications for the position of Head Boy and Girl," Professor McGonagall replied. "You all are to fill them out right now and return them to me as soon as you are finished," she said. The prefects worked diligently at their applications which consisted of a few questions concerning why they felt they would make a good Head Boy or Girl.

Hermione turned hers in right away and left the room, deciding she would wait for Ron. Only a few moments later, Draco emerged from the classroom. He came straight over to her and gave her a big kiss.

"I've been waiting all day to do that," he informed her. She smiled at him, unable to keep from being angry at him.

"I owe you an apology," she said. "Snape told me you had nothing to do with any of this mess," she told him. He shrugged his shoulders and looked away until Hermione pulled him into a big hug. "Do you forgive me?" she asked, in a pouty voice.

"Of course," he laughed, hugging her back. "Just promise you'll never go to bed without kissing me goodnight ever again."

"I promise," she agreed, leaning against the wall as he kissed her again. She could feel her knees getting weak and she held onto him for dear life, glad their classes were over for the weekend and she could stay here kissing him for as long as she wanted.

"Ahem," a voice interrupted their kiss and Hermione looked around Draco to see a very red faced Ron, waiting uncomfortably for them to stop. Hermione gave Draco one last quick kiss and promised to meet him after dinner before she headed off to Gryffindor Tower with Ron.


	13. Best Party Ever

A/N: I am SO sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. I went back to school and I barely have any time to write…yeah, lame excuse, I know. But at any rate, here it is. I'm working hard on the next one, I promise. I have another story debuting on Wednesday, so it's going to be a mess. I was really trying to get this finished before that one came out, but I didn't get it done. So please, be patient. I love you all! Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter Thirteen

"I must commend you on handling that situation so well, Severus," the rotting voice came from the old man. His body was wracked with coughs, and Severus Snape looked away. It was difficult to watch the man suffering.

"Thank you, My Lord," Severus said, once the coughing had ceased. Lord Voldemort bowed his head slightly as if to say he was welcome. Then he turned to look at Lucius Malfoy.

"Lucius, my faithful one, tell me why it is you felt the need to interfere with your niece's plans," he said, intrigued to hear Lucius' explanation.

"Well, your grace, I simply could not tolerate our young servants being forced to live like muggle filth. I realize that they were living in the best possible conditions, but to live without the magic they are so accustomed to seemed like undue punishment to me," Lucius explained. "I felt they could better gather more followers in a magic environment than they could while they were distracted by all of that muggle nonsense."

"An excellent point, Lucius," Voldemort conceded. "Samantha, I trust you have learned a lesson from this," he turned to Samantha, who was seething quietly behind her uncle.

"Indeed I have, My Lord," she agreed demurely, pushing her anger at Lucius aside. Though she knew power struggles were fairly common among those competing for entrance to Voldemort's inner circle, she had not anticipated resistance from her own relatives.

"Now we must begin discussing the subject of what to do with all of our new followers. They are mostly young, impressionable adolescents. Some will require strong leadership, while others have already demonstrated that skill. The problem is location," the Dark Lord paused. "Thanks to Samantha's failed project, these children are scattered across the globe. It is time I revealed to you the other project that has been in the works," Voldemort paused again, to make sure everyone was listening.

* * *

"Ron, could you ask Hermione to pass me the toast?" Ginny asked her brother at breakfast one morning. It had been several weeks since the vomiting incident, but Ginny, Lavender, and Parvati were still not speaking to Hermione.

Hermione sighed and passed the toast to Ginny without waiting for Ron to ask her. This nonsense was driving her nuts. Not only was it ridiculously childish, but it also took more effort for the girls not to talk to her than it did for them to just talk to her. She put her fork down and finished her orange juice.

"You look nice today, Hermione," Neville whispered. She smiled at him, grateful he was still speaking to her.

"She looks nice everyday," Seamus put in, making Parvati glare harder at Hermione.

"Thanks guys," Hermione smiled. A sudden sharp pain in her arm made the color drain from her face. She smiled at the boys again and excused herself.

Blaise, Draco, and Pansy met her in the hall. A few moments later, Snape came sweeping from the Great Hall and led them all down to his office where a surprising number of other students had already congregated. Most of them were from Slytherin, of course, but Hermione also noted that there were a few Ravenclaws and even one or two Hufflepuffs. So far, she was the only one from Gryffindor.

"Good Morning," Snape addressed everyone, doing a quick head count. "I'll be brief," he said, passing around the pot of hot cocoa. Hermione eagerly accepted a steaming mug from Draco. "You all are to meet in the library this evening after curfew. Bring one friend you trust, pureblood or not, it doesn't matter. I'll give you further instructions tonight," Snape instructed. Everyone nodded as though they understood and Hermione stared down at the floor. Bring a friend? She had no friends anymore.

Draco's arm found its way around her waist and she looked up to see him looking back at her, concerned. Hermione smiled and sipped at her cocoa. Regardless of her anxiety surrounding that evening's meeting, she could not help but feel a little bit bubbly when he looked at her that way.

"Time to get to class," he informed her, and she nodded in agreement. They walked slowly out of Snape's office and headed for muggle studies. As much as Hermione usually enjoyed her classes, she found herself dreading them for the rest of the day. It was still hard facing Harry and Ron, but she was slowly getting used to the feeling that they would never be as close as they had before.

"I don't know who to bring tonight," she spoke up suddenly. Draco squeezed her hand.

"I'm sure you'll think of someone," he tried to reassure her. She was not convinced, but let it go. It was annoying sometimes how things were so black and white for him.

A few paces away from the door of the muggle studies classroom, Draco spun to face her. He leaned in and gave her an enormous kiss. Hermione found herself panting softly when the kiss ended. Draco smirked at her, seeing a familiar hungry look in her eyes.

"I've been waiting all morning to do that," he admitted. Hermione smiled and leaned up to kiss him again. "Let's not get carried away, hmm?" he said as he turned his head away from her. Her jaw dropped open in shock, but she recovered quickly and pushed her lower lip out slightly.

"Can't we just skip class?" she asked him. He let his eyes roll up as though he were considering it.

"Nope," he said. Hermione pushed her lip out further and he just laughed. "Put that away. We're going to be late," he said, taking her hand and leading her into the classroom.

* * *

"Hey, Lavender," Hermione said cheerily as she entered her dorm that evening. It was just before dinner and Parvati and Ginny had already headed down to the Great Hall. Hermione had overheard them telling the boys Lavender would be coming later and decided to jump on the opportunity.

Lavender looked up from the notes she was reviewing and gave Hermione a strange look. She put her school stuff aside and headed for the mirror as though she had not heard Hermione.

"You're not busy tonight, are you?" Hermione pressed on, ignoring the fact that Lavender was ignoring her. Lavender's eyes met with Hermione's in the mirror.

"I have to get to dinner," she said flatly, in the voice she used to address adults. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You can talk to me for five minutes," Hermione said, stepping in front of the door. Lavender's eyes widened and she looked Hermione right in the eyes. "It's rude not to answer a question when someone asks you one," Hermione went on. "You're not busy tonight, right?"

"N-no," Lavender admitted. Hermione grinned.

"Well, now you are. Meet me outside the library at curfew," Hermione responded, without hesitating for a second. The words coming out of her mouth felt foreign, but she enjoyed the ease with which they rolled off her tongue. There was almost a metallic taste in her mouth as she flashed Lavender a broad smile and stepped out of her way.

Lavender gave Hermione a very puzzled look as she walked out the door. Hermione collapsed on her bed, thrilled at what she had just accomplished. Tiny little butterflies danced in her stomach, almost like she had been nervous all along and not realized until the adrenaline had subsided. A feeling of elation surged through her veins as she stood back up to get ready for dinner.

* * *

"Night, Millicent," Pansy sang as she stacked her textbooks neatly on the edge of her desk.

"Don't wait up for us," Blaise added, sounding equally saccharine. Millicent narrowed her eyes at the two girls.

"One of these nights, you're going to get caught. Just you wait," she sneered. Blaise's false grin vanished.

"Well, we were going to ask you along, but obviously you're not interested," she snapped. Pansy looked in the mirror briefly and headed out the door. Blaise gave Millicent a final glare and followed her friend.

The two girls walked along the corridor and up the stairs to the Slytherin Common room. The room was still marginally occupied with younger students agonizing over homework assignments. They all stopped and stared when Blaise and Pansy entered the room.

"Count to ten," Blaise whispered to Pansy. Then she blew a kiss to a table of fifth year boys in a dark corner. Pansy poked her in the ribs and rolled her eyes.

"Three, two-" Pansy said aloud.

"Wait! Wait up, I want to come along," Millicent's voice could be heard bouncing off the stone walls. Pansy and Blaise exchanged self-satisfied smirks and turned to watch the girl amble up the stairs towards them.

"What makes you think our invitation still stands?" Blaise demanded. Millicent's mouth formed a big O until both girls burst out laughing at her. Then her eyes narrowed again.

"Come on, we're going to be late," Pansy stepped in before a fight could ensue. She strode confidently through the common room in an outfit she had bought in the States. All of their foreign clothes were, just because they were foreign, much cooler than anything the other students had. Many of the younger girls glared enviously at her and Blaise as they passed.

"We're going to the library?" Millicent sounded defeated when the girls arrived at their destination.

"Don't ask questions," Blaise snapped. "You're our guest, be respectful," she reprimanded. Millicent did not respond, but her dismay was obvious.

Outside the library, Lavender was waiting anxiously for Hermione to show up. To be perfectly honest, she was afraid of what would happen if she did not come like Hermione had told her to. So she had left ten minutes early, having told Parvati and Ginny that she was meeting a guy.

Hermione appeared soon after Blaise and Pansy had disappeared into the library. Draco was holding her hand, and Lavender sighed enviously. She tried to appear nonchalant as the couple drew closer.

"I'm glad you came," Hermione said, a smile on her face. Lavender shrugged her shoulders.

"I wasn't doing anything else tonight," she allowed. The three headed into the library which was brightly lit. Colorful shapes hung in the sky, changing color and form with the rhythm of the music that played in the background. Students from all different houses were laughing, dancing, and talking all over the room. At one end, Professor Snape stood behind a table covered in butterbeer. "Wow," Lavender remarked. "Is this like a party?"

"You might say that," Draco replied, squeezing Hermione's hand. "I'm going to go get some of that butterbeer, are you two ladies interested?"

"Please," Hermione nodded. Lavender smiled and agreed also. Then she turned to Hermione and squealed.

"Ohmygod, how did you get invited to this?" she demanded. Hermione just smiled. "This is probably the coolest party to ever happen on Hogwarts grounds," she went on. She and Hermione began walking further into the room. Draco returned with their drinks and Hermione gratefully accepted the distraction.

"So, Lavender, how are things?" Draco tried to strike up a conversation. Lavender started babbling on and on about a pair of shoes Parvati got from her cousin. Hermione yawned and looked around the room. It did seem like a pretty good party, though she was not sure why Professor Snape had decided to throw a party. Or why he would do it on a Thursday night.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," a boy Hermione vaguely recognized as being from Ravenclaw had appeared at her elbow. She smiled politely and turned to look at him. "I was just wondering if I could steal Lavender from you," he went on. Lavender smiled widely and handed Hermione her butterbeer.

"Absolutely," she said, taking the boy's outstretched hand. She gave Hermione an elated look and disappeared into the sea of people. Hermione watched her go until she felt Draco's hand on her lower back. He pulled her closer to him so that her body was pressed up against him.

"Have I told you yet that I think you look fabulous tonight?" he asked her. She smiled, and rested her head against his shoulder.

"Do you ever wish we could go back?" she asked him suddenly. He looked down at her, confused. "I mean, to the States. Do you ever wish we could go back?"

"All the time," he replied, sighing. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. "Then you and I could be alone," he joked.

"I love you, Draco," Hermione said suddenly, turning her face so that it was hidden in his shoulder. He was taken back by her sudden declaration, but squeezed her a little bit tighter in his arms.

"I love you too, Hermione," he replied. She took a deep breath and stepped back. "Are you alright?" Draco asked her. She nodded.

"There's just so much going on right now," she sighed. "I'm fine, just a little overwhelmed still," she forced a smile to her face. "Come on, we're at a party, let's have some fun."

* * *

The night came to an end far too soon for most of the party-goers. Professor Snape had ended the party by cutting off the music and making the shapes disappear. The library returned to its normal look and the students all turned unhappily to hear him speak.

"I trust you all had fun tonight," he began. This statement was verified by a loud cheer. He held up his hand for silence and then continued on. "We will be having this every Thursday night under one condition," he announced. Everyone in the room was focused on him. "No other professors may find out about it," he continued. "And for the time being, no other students either. Someday you will be allowed to bring your other friends, but until I say otherwise this is to be kept a secret."

"What a strange rule," Lavender whispered to Hermione, who nodded in agreement.

"Now get to bed before I have to give anyone a detention!" Snape yelled, making the room clear out.

"That was seriously the coolest party I've ever been to," Lavender informed Hermione as the girls walked back to Gryffindor Tower. "It's some kind of club, isn't it?" she asked. Hermione shook her head no. "Oh come on, you can trust me! Dale said something about a pledge and membership," Lavender informed her. "I know it's a club, that's why we can't talk about it."

"Alright, I guess you could say it's a club," Hermione conceded.

"I knew it!" Lavender shrieked. Then she clapped her hand over her mouth, and looked around nervously. "I knew it," she repeated more softly. "How do you join?"

"I can't really say," Hermione said quickly. "Don't worry about it, its nothing you'd be interested in."

"Nothing I'd be interested in?" Lavender repeated, sounding miffed. "Why wouldn't I be interested in a club that throws killer parties on school grounds after curfew with a teacher's permission?"

"It's not always like that," Hermione sighed. "Just trust me."

"No, trust me, I'm definitely interested," Lavender gushed. "Can we bring Parvati and Ginny next time? Oh please? I know we're not supposed to tell anyone, but since you're a member can't you bend the rules a little?"

"Definitely not," Hermione said firmly. She would not be responsible for bringing Ron's younger sister to the Dark side.

"Come on! There were only two Gryffindors there. We are severely underrepresented. I think we need to rectify that situation," Lavender pleaded. Hermione sighed.

"I'll think about it," she decided. "But until then, keep your mouth shut," she warned. Lavender nodded in agreement.

"So, Dale is really hot, isn't he?" Lavender changed the subject. Hermione took a deep breath and pretended to listen as Lavender babbled on about her night.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione dragged herself out of bed and headed for the shower. She felt almost like she had been hit by a truck. Every muscle in her body ached, and she could barely do anything except yawn.

The warm shower water did nothing to wake her up; instead she felt sleepier than she had been before. Hermione headed back to her room where Parvati was desperately trying to wake Lavender up. She yawned again and began to work on her hair.

Twenty minutes later when she took her seat at the breakfast table, it was no surprise to her that many of the other students in the Great Hall looked just as tired as she did. She took a sip of her orange juice and looked sadly at her plate of French toast. Somehow she was not hungry, even for French toast. Hermione set her fork down and sighed, deciding to head off to the library before class.

She realized it had been a mistake when she sank into the plush armchair. Her eyelids felt heavy and she found herself focusing harder on keeping awake than on her reading. Maybe it had been a great party the night before, but was it worth the fight to stay awake?

By the time potions came around, it was all Hermione could do to keep from snoring aloud. Looking around the room, she could see that half of the students in the room were having the same problem she was. It was the Slytherin half, of course, as they had made up most of the party the night before. Even Snape seemed to be exhausted.

"Alright, please tell me what is going on," Harry demanded, approaching Hermione as they walked to lunch. Ron appeared at her other elbow and Hermione yawned enormously before swearing she had no idea what they were talking about.

"Oh please, half of this school can barely keep their eyes open. Was there an all-night study session or something we missed?" Ron joked.

"I really," Hermione yawned, interrupting her own sentence, "have no idea what's going on."

"Mhmm," Harry said sarcastically.

"You can trust us, Hermione," Ron put in. "We're your best friends."

"I know," she agreed. _But can you trust me?_ she thought.

"So, were you really up late studying?" Harry asked. "Or were you and Malfoy off shagging in a dark corner?" he joked.

"Gross," Ron muttered under his breath. Hermione gave Harry a look.

"For your information, I went to a party last night," she said matter-of-factly. Harry and Ron exchanged looks.

"You went to a party?" Ron asked. "On a school night?"

"Yes, I went to a party on a school night, on school grounds, after curfew," she informed them, a bit defensive.

"I'm impressed," Harry remarked.

"And jealous," Ron added. "Why weren't we invited?"

"It was kind of a low-key thing," she lied. They walked past a group of Slytherins trudging along slowly.

"Looks like it was a pretty big party, since half of the school can barely walk straight," Ron observed. "Who hosted this shindig anyway? Some Seventh year who wants to show off that he can buy alcohol now?"

"Oh there was no alcohol there," Hermione corrected quickly.

"Whaat?" Seamus interrupted, and Hermione realized that he, Neville, and Dean were all walking very close behind her and listening to every word she said.

"Even I know you can't throw a good party without alcohol," Neville piped up.

"Actually, it was a great party and we didn't need any alcohol to have fun. It must be one of those Gryffindor faults, having to get smashed to enjoy yourself," Draco's voice cut through the hallway. He pushed past Ron to stand next to Hermione, taking her books and looping her arm through his in one fell swoop.

"That was slick," Seamus complimented before he could catch himself. Draco flashed him a grin.

"So, I guess this was like an invitation-only type of thing," Harry said, turning everyone's attention back to the previous conversation.

"You might say that," Draco agreed. "Don't worry, there will be more."

"Count me out," Ron hissed to Seamus, glaring at the back of Draco's head. "Who wants to hang out with some Slytherins if you can't get trashed to forget about them?"

"Don't worry, Weasley, I never said you would be invited," Draco replied, picking up his pace. Hermione had to take two steps for each one of Draco's and found herself almost out of breath after they turned the corner.

"Hey, slow down," she pleaded. Draco slowed his pace and looked at her sheepishly.

"Sorry about that," he apologized.

"Ron's just jealous," she informed him.

"I'm aware," Draco agreed. "I think it's hilarious," he added.

"Which is why we had to sprint down the hall," Hermione teased. She kissed him on the cheek. "Can we skip Arithmancy and take a nap instead?" she asked. Draco shook his head.

"We don't skip classes," he informed her, suddenly very serious.

"I was kidding," Hermione replied flatly. She was getting sick of these rules already. So many dos and do nots.

Fortunately, the rest of the day went by quickly and Hermione soon found herself crawling into Draco's bed to take a nap. There was a comforting aroma that seemed to permeate his sheets, and as she drifted off to sleep, Hermione realized that it smelled like Draco.

* * *

"Alright, alright. When you combine feverfew and lungwort, you get?" Draco asked. Hermione heaved a sigh.

"Feverfew and lungwort, when brewed with a tiny bit of butterbeer, create a potion that is used to alleviate cold symptoms," she replied. Draco rolled his eyes.

"And you felt like we needed to study this, why?" he asked. Hermione gave him an exasperated look.

"You always need to study," Hermione replied. She yawned. After their nap, she and Draco had decided to spend some time studying potions. Draco had insisted they stay in his room to do it, so Hermione was having a hard time concentrating. She was used to sitting at a desk to study, not laying on a bed in one of Draco's t-shirts.

"Did I tell you that you look ridiculously adorable in my shirt?" he asked her, setting his potions book on the nightstand. Hermione smiled.

"Only three hundred times now," she informed him. He grinned and leaned in to kiss her.

"Maybe we should take a study break," he suggested, pulling the curtains around his bed closed. Hermione smiled a little wider and leaned back on his pillow.

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," she agreed, craning her neck to kiss him again. A chill ran down her spine, and she shivered as he gently parted her lips with his tongue. She adored that feeling. She ran the tip of her tongue gently along the roof of his mouth, just behind his teeth, making him shiver in return.

One of Draco's hands was drawing slow lazy circles around her nipple as he began kissing her neck. She felt every muscle in her body relax, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the feeling of their bodies pressed together. She lifted her shoulders to help Draco remove her shirt, and both of her nipples went harder than they had already been, in response to the cold air of the room.

Hermione was now laying underneath Draco in nothing but a pair of pale blue panties. She began to suck softly on his earlobe, something that required a great deal of talent to do properly. Meanwhile he was still playing with her nipples, although absently as she was distracting him with her tongue.

He pulled his head away and took one of her nipples in his mouth. Gently and deliberately he ran his tongue over the tip of it, slowly at first. Then he began to suck at it softly, causing Hermione to let out a soft moan.

She stretched out her arms, struggling to unfasten his belt and pull his pants off. His shirt came off next, and then he pressed his chest up against hers and sighed at the feeling of her skin on his.

"Oh God, Hermione," he breathed, not needing to say anything else. She could feel it too, the electricity in their skin, the intense energy coursing through her veins. Before she was aware of what she was doing, she had slipped out of her panties and was tugging at his boxers.

Draco lifted his hips and helped her get them off. He pulled her up close to him, and stared into her eyes. Hermione could feel how hard he was, and she knew he wanted it as badly as she did. She covered his mouth with her own, devouring him hungrily. His fingertips ran along her side and down between her legs, as though they were searching for something. Hermione knew he was checking to see how wet she was, and she knew he would not be disappointed. Her legs spread of their own accord, and suddenly he was resting right at her entrance. She maneuvered her hips slightly, pressing against him, trying to tell him that she was ready.

"Whoa, slow down," he whispered, stroking her cheek. "We're not going to do this right now," he told her. Hermione's eyebrows raised more in dismay than in question.

"What do you mean?" she breathed, surprised to hear that she was out of breath. He kissed her softly.

"There's no reason to hurry," he explained. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you, we don't have to rush," he went on. Hermione's jaw fell open.

"You, what?" she asked, scooting backwards a bit.

"Don't look so surprised," he said sadly. "I love you, Hermione," he reminded her.

"I know, and I love you too," she responded. "I just, you surprised me is all."

"I didn't mean to, I thought you understood," he sighed, and then kissed her stomach. "Look, I know you think you want to do this, but you don't. Not right now. We can fool around all you want, but we're not going to have sex. Not anytime soon," he said gently, but firmly.

"Why not?" Hermione asked, still confused. "If we're spending the rest of our lives together, then what does it matter?"

"Trust me, Hermione, it's worth the wait," Draco said. "Just trust me."


	14. A Surprising Potions Lesson

Chapter Fourteen

Hermione stormed into Gryffindor Tower half furious and half ready to cry. What was wrong with her that made Draco not want to sleep with her? She stomped up the stairs into the common room and was relieved to find it was nearly empty.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, getting up from his chair by the fire. "Hermione, what's the matter?"

"Oh, God," she sighed. "It's a long story," she said. Ron crossed to where she was standing and just as he got there, she burst into tears.

"Come here," he said, taking her into his arms. "You can talk to me, Hermione, I'm one of your best friends," he reminded her.

"I know," she took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. She wiped the tears out of her eyes and looked up at Ron.

"Let's sit down," he suggested, leading her over to the fireplace. Hermione followed and took a seat in the overstuffed armchair. "Alright, so spill already," he prompted.

"I'm not sure where to start," Hermione sighed, hearing her voice waver slightly. "This is kind of embarrassing," she realized aloud. "You see, Draco and I were, uh, fooling around," she began, ignoring the red tinge that was beginning to spread across Ron's freckled cheeks. "Basically, he told me he doesn't want to have sex with me," she finished quickly. "And I don't know why, I don't know what's wrong with me that he wouldn't want to sleep with me, I mean, we've been dating for a while now and I just, I thought by now," she took another deep breath when she realized she was rambling. "I just don't really understand," she finished.

Ron took a deep breath, and thought for a moment. This was not what he had expected to come pouring out of Hermione's mouth. Maybe she was stressed about schoolwork, that he could handle. He would be shocked, but capable if she had been pregnant, but Draco Malfoy turning down sex? And from a girl he was so obviously in love with?

"See, it just doesn't make any sense does it?" Hermione demanded, getting to her feet. She began to pace back and forth in front of the fire. "I really just don't get it. I mean, what's wrong with me? Am I completely unattractive or freakish?"

"Uh, no?" Ron wasn't sure what to say. "No, you're definitely not freakish," he recovered. "Hermione, sit down," he insisted, patting the chair she had been sitting in before. "You are a very attractive girl," he said, gazing at her watery eyes. "But why are you in such a hurry to sleep with Malfoy?" he asked. "I know you're in love and all, but you haven't really been dating that long. It's not that I expect him to break your heart, but it might be a mistake to rush into things so soon."

"But what if it's not?" Hermione asked. "What if he cheats on me because we're not having sex?"

"He won't," Ron sighed. "I know that a lot of people think that us boys are incapable of being faithful when there's no sex involved but really, we can handle it. As much as I hate to admit this, Malfoy loves you. It's ridiculously obvious to everyone and makes me a little sick to be honest. But I'm happy for you and I know that he's going to treat you like you deserve to be treated."

Hermione thought about what Ron was telling her. It made sense, but she was still unsure. And what about Draco telling her that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her? They really hadn't been dating all that long, but Draco seemed so certain of it.

"Thanks, Ron," she said, hoping his concerned look would vanish. She hated having to talk to him about this. "You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?" she asked. He shook his head.

"Absolutely not," he promised. "Besides, who would believe me that Hermione Granger was a sex-crazed harlot?"

"Shut up!" Hermione laughed, wishing she had something to throw at him. "Thank you again, Ron," she said, getting to her feet. "I guess we should head to dinner," she suggested, looking at the clock. Ron agreed and accompanied her to the Great Hall.

Try as he might, Ron couldn't keep himself from looking over at the Slytherin table as he walked past. He made eye contact with Draco, who gave him a sheepish half-smile. It must have been obvious that Hermione had confided in him. Despite the longstanding enmity between the two boys, Ron shrugged his shoulders and gave Draco a genuine smile. They would never be good friends, but at least he knew Hermione would be in good hands.

* * *

"Settle down," Professor Snape intoned, stalking to the front of the classroom. "I know you all are going to be as horribly disappointed as I was that there will be no potion making today."

Hermione looked up from the parchment she was already furiously scribbling on. The class was scheduled to start a unit on sleeping potions that day and she was fully prepared to do that. She realized for the first time that Professor Flitwick was making his way to the front of the room to join Snape. Confused, she made eye contact with Harry and Ron who looked as lost as she did.

"Professor Flitwick has agreed to join me for today's rather uncomfortable lecture," Professor Snape continued. "I'm sure that you all as sixth year students are perfectly capable of being mature about this subject so be aware that anyone who acts up will automatically have 25 points deducted from his or her house," he stared harshly at each student in turn.

"Headmaster Dumbledore requires that this lecture be given each year to the sixth year students," Professor Flitwick began. Hermione looked down at her notes and sighed. She was fairly certain she knew what was coming and it was far too late for most of the students in the class. "He believes it is important that you are aware of the changes that are occurring in your bodies and the consequences of your decision to become or not to become sexually active."

The room was completely silent except for a few students who shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Professor Snape glared at the students who were moving around but didn't open his mouth. Hermione kept her eyes downcast. The timing of this lecture couldn't be worse.

"I would like to remind each and every one of you that there are severe consequences for any students found engaging in sexual activities anywhere on school grounds," Professor Snape put in. Across the room, Draco muttered something under his breath. "Mr. Malfoy, would you care to share with the rest of the class?"

"_Please don't,"_ Hermione pleaded silently. Draco sat up straight.

"I said, thank God," he repeated. "I can't stand it that everyone here seems to think it's so important to hook up with someone just because you can. I'm proud of the fact that I don't have to give into whatever hormonal urges are running through me at any given moment and I wish more students would choose to wait until marriage."

"Er-Thank you for that, Mr. Malfoy," Snape's eyes darted awkwardly to Hermione and back to Draco. "Abstinence is an admirable choice and the only completely effective method of preventing diseases and pregnancy," he tried to recover the situation but the damage had been done. Excited whispers were now circulating around the room and Hermione was blushing furiously.

The lecture couldn't end fast enough. As soon as it was over, Hermione dashed from the room not stopping until she reached her bedroom. She collapsed on her bed, sobbing. How could Draco have humiliated her like that? It was only natural that everyone would assume they were having sex and Hermione had been fine with that. She was given a new level of respect and though she didn't want anyone to think she was a slut, she also didn't see any reason to put an end to the rumors.

It wasn't that she thought she needed to be having sex to be considered cool, it was just that she knew everyone would assume the reason she and Draco weren't having sex was because of her. Even though his tirade had made his sentiments clear, she was sure she would be blamed for it. Everyone would assume that she was being her usual self and playing it safe. Hermione was tired of being a goody two shoes. Her experience in America had taught her that it was more fun to be on the playful, relaxed side of things. Like so many days since she had gotten back to Hogwarts, Hermione wished wholeheartedly that she could go back to the States.

* * *

Draco waited for Hermione outside the Great Hall for lunch but she never showed up. When she didn't come to Transfiguration either, he knew something was wrong.

"Where's Snow White?" Blaise whispered in his ear from the row behind him. He turned around to look at her. "Get it? Snow White?" she rolled her eyes. "That was really sweet, I meant to tell you."

"Shut it," he snapped, suddenly understanding why Hermione was avoiding him. It had never occurred to him that she might be embarrassed by his speech. He had actually thought she might be grateful to him for clearing her reputation. Apparently that wasn't the reputation she was after.

"Let me handle it, okay?" Blaise volunteered. Draco sighed. "Really, I'll fix it for you."

* * *

Hermione hid in her bed for the rest of the day. She knew it was stupid, but she was too embarrassed to face anyone. It was dinnertime before anyone returned to the bedroom. The curtain on Hermione's bed was drawn back suddenly to reveal Blaise carrying a tray of food.

"Get up," she commanded. Hermione sat up but didn't get out of bed. Blaise rolled her eyes and handed Hermione the tray. "I'm sure you're starving since you've now skipped two meals," she explained her generosity. "Seriously, Hermione, you can't do that anymore."

"I know, we don't skip classes," Hermione said, eagerly taking a bite of chicken.

"It's not just that," Blaise said, taking a seat on the bed. She helped herself to Hermione's roll. "You can't let anyone see that you're affected by anything anyone says about you. It's a sign of weakness."

"Or humanity," Hermione protested. Blaise shook her head.

"Emotions are messy," she said. "It's better to avoid them at all costs. Mostly it's not possible, but you can teach yourself to just get mad instead. If you can get mad, you can do anything."

"That seems so harsh," Hermione observed. "Besides, I can't walk around being mad at the entire potions class because Draco embarrassed me."

"Why not?" Blaise asked. "Hermione, you shouldn't be embarrassed by what Draco said. He didn't mean to upset you, he was just saying what was on his mind. It's one of your duties to stand behind everything he says."

"That's absurd," Hermione sighed. Blaise shrugged.

"Get used to it. You're his girlfriend and maybe someday you'll be his wife. You're supposed to support him in everything he does and says. It's one of the most important parts of being a Death Eater," she explained.

"Why do I get the distinct feeling that it doesn't work the other way around?" Hermione asked. Blaise rolled her eyes again.

"Draco's pretty forward-thinking, I'm sure he'll be supportive of you too," she sighed. "Really, Hermione, you should just get over all the feminist stuff because the Dark Lord is just not going to change his way of thinking." Hermione sighed and finished her dinner.

"I guess I have to forgive Draco," she said. Blaise nodded. "Thank you for the food," Hermione said.

"No problem. No more sulking, okay?" she said, taking the tray from Hermione. "If there's one thing Death Eaters never do its feel sorry for themselves."

"I'm beginning to think there are not many things Death Eaters actually are allowed to do," Hermione said. Blaise laughed.

"You'll get used to it," she said reassuringly. "Now get your ass out of bed and find your man. He's pretty worried."

Hermione got to her feet and tried to tidy her appearance. She followed Blaise down the stairs in the fireplace and into Draco's bedroom. The room was empty – presumably because Draco was at dinner. Hermione sat on the edge of his bed and waited for him to get back.

She hadn't been waiting long when the door opened and Draco came in. He looked surprised to see her there. She stood up and walked over to give him a hug.

"I'm sorry," she said before he could say anything. She let go of him and stepped so back to look him in the eyes. "I overreacted," she apologized. He shook his head.

"Hermione, I had no right to share our personal business with the entire class," he said. "I'm sorry that I embarrassed you."

"I'm alright now," Hermione said. Draco took her hand and led her over to his bed. They sat on the edge. Draco put an arm around Hermione and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I meant what I said about spending the rest of my life with you, Hermione," Draco said. "I know we're young but I'm serious about this." Hermione didn't know what to say. She loved Draco and she loved the idea of being his wife but she wasn't sure she could handle it. they had only really been dating for about a month. Everything in Hermione's life seemed to be set on warp speed. She sighed. Draco looked down at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I wish we could go back," Hermione said, meaning the States. Draco nodded.

"Me too," he agreed. "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked, changing the subject. The next day was Saturday.

"I'm not sure," Hermione answered. "I guess going to Hogsmeade."

"Why don't you stay here tonight?" He suggested. Hermione paused. Was that really a good idea? She thought back to the time in America when he had gotten in bed with her and they had fallen asleep together. It had been so nice. She didn't really count the time she had spent the night before since she had been drugged. Maybe there wasn't any harm in it.

"Alright," she agreed. "But play nice," she admonished him. He grinned.

"If you insist," he agreed.

* * *

"Hermione?" a voice was calling. Hermione's eyelids fluttered open briefly and closed again. Surely she had plenty more time to sleep. It was a Saturday after all. "Hermione?" the voice repeated. The bedroom door opened. "Hermione!" now the voice was angry. "Hermione what is going on here?"

Hermione sighed and opened her eyes. Her mother was standing over her, her hands on her hips. Next to Hermione, Draco stirred. Hermione sat upright and looked around the room. She was back in her bedroom in America, and her American mother was hovering over her, demanding that she get out of bed immediately.

"Have you forgotten what day it is?" her mother demanded. Hermione was too busy wondering how she got back to the States to think about what her mother was saying. Just the night before she had slept in Draco's bed at Hogwarts. "Hermione, for god's sake get out of bed and get dressed. We'll talk about this later," Mrs. Granger said, gesturing to Draco's still sleeping figure.

Hermione obediently got out of her bed and glanced at the clock. It was only seven and she was exhausted. Fortunately, she found an outfit picked out for her hanging on the closet door. Her mother disappeared from the room with a resounding slam of the door. Taking a deep breath, Hermione dressed quickly and tried to wake Draco.

"Draco, wake up," she insisted, giving him a rough shake. "Please, wake up," she repeated. Finally he opened his eyes and looked just as confused as she felt.

"What happened?" he asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I have no idea, but I have to go do something," she explained. "Try to figure it out while I'm gone," she instructed. Draco yawned.

"Yeah, okay," he agreed, lying back down. Hermione sighed.

"You could at least act like you're going to put some effort into it!" Hermione snapped. Draco waved her off and she rolled her eyes. Hermione put on her shoes and grabbed a purse from the shelf in her closet before heading downstairs to find her mother.

When she walked into the kitchen she was surprised to see not just her mother but also her father waiting impatiently for her. Her mother immediately began fussing with her outfit.

"Come on, Vic, we haven't got all day," Hermione's father said restlessly. Mrs. Granger sighed and gave Hermione a threatening glare before picking up her own purse and following her husband out to the car. Hermione followed obediently, hoping that a stop at Starbucks would be on the day's agenda.

"Were you drinking last night, Hermione?" her mother asked, turning around to look at her daughter in the backseat. Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Of course not," her father defended. "She knows how much trouble it would be for my campaign if she were to get caught drinking, right sweetie?" he looked at her in the rearview mirror. Hermione gave him a tight-lipped smile. Her mother kept looking, however, and Hermione was sure the conversation hadn't been resolved. She tried to remember what she had been doing the night before.

She had been at Pansy's house, in the hot tub for most of the night. Around her, the vast majority of the senior class were helping themselves to a seemingly endless supply of beer and expensive liquor. Pansy had set up a blender within an arm's reach of the hot tub so that she could keep an endless supply of daiquiris flowing for the other members of the cheerleading squad and dance team who were also crammed into the hot tub.

Across the terrace, Hermione could see the football team clustered around a ping-pong table with cups of beer. They were playing a game called "beer pong" that involved trying to throw a ping pong ball into one of your opponent's cups, arranged in a pyramid formation, across the table. From her vantage point, Draco seemed to be winning.

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to remember if she had been drinking or not. She had a few daiquiris, but was she drunk? Maybe. But then who had driven home? Not Draco. She must have been the one driving.

"Herm?" her father interrupted her thought process. "It would probably look better if you didn't refer to Harvard as your backup school." He was looking at her in the mirror again. Hermione nodded. "I know it's not your first choice, but you don't have to say that," he added. "And try not to freeze if they put you on the spot, just smile and be honest."

"Yes, Dad," she sighed as her father turned the car into a Starbucks parking lot.

"Come in with me," he insisted. Hermione grudgingly got out of the car and accompanied her father into the coffee shop. Her mother stayed behind. "I really like your boyfriend, Hermione," he said as they crossed the pavement. The rest of his thought had to be put on hold while they entered the store, however, because Mark Granger insisted on greeting everyone he passed. After they placed their order, he picked up where he had left off.

"Anyway, he's a good guy. Great ball player, absolutely outstanding. Good student too," he thought for a moment and Hermione wondered where he was going with this. "I have to tell you though, I'm not entirely sure it's appropriate for him to be spending the night in your room," her father concluded. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Dad," she said. "Draco and I have been sharing a bed since we were infants," she reminded him.

"I see your point, Hermione, but I would feel a lot better if he would sleep somewhere else when he stays at our house," he decided, coming the closest to a direct order Mark Granger ever got with his daughter. It was the primary opinion of Hermione's parents that children should have limitations but not too many. Fortunately they had been graced with a child who didn't require a lot of discipline.

Hermione collected her coffee from the bar and followed her father back to the car. She stood awkwardly to one side when her father got into a conversation with a random passerby about gun control laws.

"Forgive me," Mark Granger said, "This is my daughter, Hermione," he introduced Hermione to the man he had been talking to. "She's going to study law next year at college."

"Wonderful," the man smiled at her. "What school are you going to? Harvard, no doubt," he laughed.

"We'll see," Hermione forced a smile. "I just put in my applications."

"Oh, you'll get in, don't worry," he winked. "Great talking to you, Mark, I won't keep you," he said, giving Hermione's father a pat on the shoulder.

"Do you know who that was, Hermione?" her father asked, opening the door to car. Hermione got into the backseat.

"No idea," she rolled her eyes.

"That, Hermione, was the Director of Harvard's Law School," Her father sounded frustrated. "He essentially just promised you admission," he sighed. "I really don't know what's gotten into you lately," he said. Hermione didn't say anything as he pulled out of the parking lot. They got onto the highway and twenty minutes later were pulling into the parking lot of a news station.

The name of the station jogged Hermione's memory and she remembered that her father was scheduled to appear on "Good Morning Washington," a local news program. He was bringing the family along to make a good impression on the voters, of course. Hermione remembered happily that this was just the beginning of her father's campaign tour and that he was leaving immediately after the broadcast to visit other parts of the state.

Her cell phone chirped and Hermione grabbed it quickly, hoping that it was Draco with some information about how they had ended up there. Instead it was a text message from Violet, wishing her good luck. Hermione smiled and turned the phone on silent. She was having much better luck with her "memory" this time around.

The Granger family was shown into a small waiting room with couches and a plasma television so they could watch the broadcast while they waited to go on. It didn't take long for a makeup artist to appear and slather gobs of makeup all over their faces. Then they were shown to a set of armchairs where they were told to be absolutely silent until the commercial break.

During the break, one of the show's hosts came over and sat down in the last armchair. She briefly outlined the questions she would ask and then the break ended and they were given the signal that the camera was rolling.

"I'm here live with one of Virginia's candidates for U.S. Senate, Mark Granger, and his family," the anchorwoman said. "Mark, do you feel that the recent political climate in Virginia is…" Hermione zoned out. She tried her hardest to focus, but it was almost impossible, mostly because she was still so exhausted. It wasn't until she heard her father saying her name that she snapped back to attention.

"Well, Hermione, as a minor, how do you feel about the recent curfew adjustment? Has it put a damper on your Halloween plans for tonight?" the anchorwoman asked. Hermione took a deep breath. The county had just voted to impose a weekend curfew of 12 p.m. for all children under 18. During the week, the curfew was 10 p.m.

"I really love seeing the little kids in their costumes, so I'll be staying home to pass out candy with my mother," she said. "And with one in every three drivers on the roads between 1 and 4 a.m. being intoxicated, it really only benefits teenagers to be off the roads late at night."

"That's an excellent point," the anchor nodded. "Now, what are your plans for after graduation. Do you know where you'll be going to college yet?"

"I've completed my applications to Wellesley, Sarah Lawrence, William and Mary, Amherst, and Harvard," Hermione said.

"And do you have a first choice?" the woman prompted. Hermione shook her head.

"They're all excellent schools and I think I would do well at any of them," she replied. The anchorwoman shook her head and turned her attention back to Mark Granger. Hermione zoned out again almost immediately.

The interview only lasted a few more minutes and the Granger family was escorted back to their car. Hermione climbed into the backseat, happy to be getting rid of her father again.

"You did beautifully, Hermione," Her father commended happily. Hermione smiled at him briefly before sinking down into the seat.

* * *

When Hermione made it back to her bedroom, Draco was still asleep. She smiled happily and locked her bedroom door for the first time in her life. Very quickly, she put her pajamas back on and crawled into bed with him. She was fast asleep within minutes.

* * *

"Hermione Granger, if you do not unlock this door right this instant I will call your father and make him come home!" Victoria Granger shouted through Hermione's bedroom door. It was only about an hour after she had gone back to sleep and Hermione was not ready to get up yet. She stumbled to the door and unlocked it before getting back into her bed. Her mother came bursting through the door only seconds later.

"Really, Hermione?" Her mother demanded. "Your father told me you two discussed this," she said angrily.

"Leave the door open if you want, we're _just_ sleeping," Hermione replied angrily. Her mother's jaw dropped.

'Hermione, I don't know what's gotten into you!" she exclaimed. Hermione sighed and sat up.

"Mom, I am exhausted. Please, let me get a few hours of sleep and then we can discuss this calmly," Hermione said. Her mother looked even more upset, but she couldn't argue with Hermione's reasonable request.

"Fine. I'm leaving the door open," she said, walking out of the room. Hermione sighed thankfully and lay back down. So she was acting unusual lately, she mused, wondering what that meant. Drunk driving was one thing, obviously. She could remember on a few occasions ignoring her mother's phone calls. Closing her eyes, Hermione figured her mother was just blowing everything out of proportion.

* * *

She woke up a few hours later to Draco nuzzling her neck. Hermione opened her eyes and turned to kiss him. He smiled at her and shifted his weight so that he was lying on top of her. His hand was under her shirt, playing with her nipple, and then it was traveling down her stomach into her pajama pants. Hermione lifted her hips and slid the pants and her underwear off to give Draco easier access. He pulled his own pants off and positioned himself over her, ready to slide right in if she would spread her legs a little bit more. He pushed against her, trying to get her to do that.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, incredibly confused. She had just calmed down from the previous day's humiliation where Draco had told all of Hogwarts that they weren't having sex and now here he was unceremoniously trying to do just that.

"I am trying to give you the best fuck of your life," He informed her, very serious. Hermione stared blankly at him. "Okay, I know the door's open but doesn't that make it hotter?" he whispered. Hermione took a slow deep breath. It did make it hotter, but where was this coming from?

"I thought we were waiting," she reminded him. Draco rolled his eyes.

"You can't be serious," he groaned. "For the past two weeks we've been having a total shagfest and now you want to close up shop on me?" Hermione wanted to laugh at how strange the word "shagfest" sounded in Draco's American accent, but she was way too confused. Her memory flashed on several incidents from the past two weeks that confirmed Draco's statement. Somewhere inside her, she could feel her heart sinking. So she had lost her virginity and she hadn't even experienced it?

"Sorry," she muttered, and closed her eyes. Draco sighed and leaned on his right side.

"So, apparently we're different people here than we are at Hogwarts," he said. Hermione nodded. "Do you remember that night?" he asked, referring to the night he had taken her virginity. "It was really great," he informed her, as though she wasn't remembering as well. "We were celebrating the best football season Kensington has had in years," he recalled. "I took you to dinner in Georgetown, and it was freezing cold but you wore that little dress anyway. We had duck and crème brulee and I gave you this," he said, pulling Hermione's left hand out from under the covers. A tiny white gold ring with a diamond chip in the very center was sitting on her ring finger.

"A promise ring," she said, observing the ring. Draco nodded.

"My parents were out of town and we spent the night at my house," he went on with the memory. Hermione could fill in the rest. "I planned the whole thing, I wanted everything to be perfect."

"It was perfect," she sighed, opening her eyes. "So what do we do?" she asked.

"You mean do we keep having sex or do we start abstaining?" he asked. "I don't know, what do you want to do?" he looked at her. Hermione thought for a moment and then smiled.

"As long as we're here," she said, crawling on top of him to straddle him. "We might as well take advantage of it," she decided. Draco's head fell backwards as Hermione lowered herself over him. Though they had allegedly been doing this for weeks he still hadn't anticipated how good it would feel. "Shh," Hermione reminded him, "The door is open."

* * *

Lucius Malfoy sat numbly at the boardroom table, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. He knew when he was defeated. If the Ministry of Magic had seen fit to send the children back to their project countries, then there must be good reason for it. The only fault Lucius had been able to point out was that the students hadn't been given advance warning. His niece had solved that problem by volunteering to go visit each country and explain the change personally. On one hand he was pleased to see her succeeding, but on the other hand he knew that with her success came his failure. 


	15. Hermione's Punishment

Chapter Fifteen

_The Daily Prophet – January 17_

_Students Return to Muggle World_

_In an unprecedented maneuver, the Ministry of Magic has re-evaluated the controversial Muggle Studies project, which was earlier this year deemed "too dangerous," and voted unanimously to return the students to the foreign countries where they were studying Muggle life. The students were returned to the countries early Saturday morning and will be briefed very soon by Madam Meurteuil, the Advanced Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This somewhat shocking decision by the Ministry of Magic has not been met with any opposition from concerned parents at this time_.

Harry set the article on the table in front of him and looked up at Ron.

"This is way too weird," he said. Ron nodded.

"I don't like the sound of this at all. No opposition from parents?" Ron asked. "My parents certainly are concerned about this."

"I'm pretty sure that You Know Who must be involved somehow," Harry whispered. Ron sighed.

"Do you think it's worth trying to warn Hermione?" he asked. "That didn't go over so well last time."

"I know," Harry agreed. "But we have to do something."

* * *

"I'm sure you have already noticed," Samantha Meurteuil announced, "That somehow we've gone backwards in time since you were here last.," she continued. "The primary reason for this adjustment being that last time you all were here Miss Granger experienced some memory issues. We've had to use different spells to make sure no one has that problem this time, and the only way to make all the spells work together was to send you all back in time. So some events that happened on your previous trip did not happen again this time. If you just spend some time practicing you'll find out which events I'm referring to. But these are not the only changes that some of you will encounter."

Hermione and Draco exchanged pointed glances. They were, with Blaise and Pansy, sitting in an empty classroom at the high school, getting instructions from Madam Meurteuil on how to proceed with their project.

"Do you mean that we should expect personality changes as well?" Hermione asked. Madam Meurteuil gave her a quizzical look.

"I'm not sure, why do you ask?" Madam Meurteuil replied.

"She means, Sammie, that the Abstinence King and Queen of Hogwarts are not exactly reigning here in the States," Blaise explained. Hermione blushed.

"Among other things," Draco defended. Madam Meurteuil raised her eyebrows.

"I guess if there were certain…_personality_ traits that someone admired then they might have become more prevalent in this world, yes," she agreed. "Please tell me you're all being careful about that sort of thing because that's absolutely the last thing I need for one of you girls to get pregnant over here. Or for you to get someone pregnant, Draco," Madam Meurteuil let her professional side slip for a moment. Hermione suddenly found herself fascinated by the wood grain pattern in the desk and unable to make eye contact with anyone in the room.

"So if we're back in October, then is everyone at Hogwarts still in January?" Pansy asked. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Pansy," Draco snapped. "We're really going to miss the rest of our school year by going back in time to muggle land."

"Draco," Madam Meurteuil scolded. "The Ministry has been able to work this out so that you will spend exactly 10 months here. When you return to Hogwarts you will have only missed three months of class. Don't ask me how they're doing it, there's a very complex algorithm involved that I truly don't understand, but it's going to work."

"10 months," Blaise repeated, staring off into the distance. "That's a really long time, Sam."

"I know," Madam Meurteuil agreed. "But think about how well you'll be able to assume your roles in this society and how much you'll learn by truly experiencing the muggle world instead of just reading about it."

"Okay, but why are we really here?" Draco demanded. Everyone turned to look at him. "Yeah, Muggle Studies, right. But really?"

"You probably shouldn't worry about things that don't concern you," Samantha Meurteuil snapped, her tone no longer professional at all.

"Hey, I'm involved, okay? I'm here, missing out on a normal year at Hogwarts. So I'm pretty damn sure this concerns me," Draco snapped back.

"We're here for the same reason we were here last time," she said after a long pause. "There are certain individuals who have positions in the government and they need an excuse to spend time in the States."

"Alright," Draco said, as though this made perfect sense. Hermione took a moment to digest this information. There were Ministry workers, working for Voldemort, in the United States.

"Does anyone have any questions about the actual project?" Madam Meurteuil asked. No one said anything. "Alright, well I guess I'll be leaving then." With a final hug to her sister, Madam Meurteuil apparated out of the classroom, presumably to another country to explain the project to the rest of the students.

Hermione took a deep breath and turned to face Draco. He gave her a small smile and extended his hand to her. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"Let's skip the rest of our classes," he suggested. Hermione grinned.

"What would we do instead?" she asked.

"Hermione, if you miss anymore classes you're not going to be allowed to perform on Friday," Blaise scolded her. Hermione sighed.

"I guess I have to go to class," she said.

"We can hang out after school," Draco suggested. Hermione shook her head and related to Draco, Blaise, and Pansy the conversation she'd had with her mother on that first afternoon they had been back in the States

After saying goodbye to Draco, Hermione had gone into the kitchen to get some food since she literally hadn't eaten all day. Nothing in the refrigerator looked remotely appealing to Hermione.

"You're awake," her mother pronounced, coming into the kitchen. Hermione spun to make eye contact with her mother. "Sit down, Hermione."

"I'm good," Hermione refused. She was never this rude to her mother in real life but it just seemed to be her natural reaction that day.

"See, that's exactly what I want to talk to you about," her mother said. "You can't even take a simple suggestion. You're just rude, always. I don't know what's gotten into you but I don't like the direction you're going. Your attitude needs a big adjustment," she paused. "And I think the drinking has gotten out of hand. I understand that every once in a while you want to experiment but every weekend now you're out drinking and I can't hide it from your Dad much longer. And I'm sorry, but the idea of you getting drunk and having sex just terrifies me. I know that you and Draco made a mature, responsible decision and I'm proud of that but it scares me to think that you're getting drunk and having sex every weekend."

"We don't just have sex on weekends, Mom," Hermione heard herself saying.

"Hermione Jane Granger, you are so out of line, young lady," her mother snapped. "I am pouring my heart out to you and you just want to be snarky."

"Sorry, Mom, I'm just trying to make sure you have all the facts," Hermione shrugged. "Okay, so you want me to cool it with the drinking. I can do that."

"Well, you don't have a choice," her mother said. "You're-"

"-Grounded?" Draco asked as Hermione finished her story. "That's a joke, right?"

"Definitely not," Hermione sighed.

"But you've never been grounded before," Draco protested. "Your Dad doesn't believe in that kind of thing."

"Apparently her mother does," Blaise rolled her eyes. "Anyway, what's the big deal? Lots of kids get grounded like all the time. Let's just go to class and try to act like normal kids," she suggested, heading down the hall. They all followed her lead.

"I hate that football is over," Draco commented as they walked. "I really hate watching basketball games."

"Then why do you watch them?" Pansy asked.

"Because I have to watch Hermione dance," he said as though it were obvious.

"Whatever," Blaise sighed. "We'll see you at lunch," she said to Draco, opening the door to the class she shared with Pansy and Hermione.

"Bye," Hermione said, kissing Draco quickly then going into the classroom. She took a seat next to Blaise. Across the room, Violet gave her a questioning look. Hermione just shrugged though she was really excited to see her friend again.

The class couldn't have gone slower. When the bell finally rang, Violet cornered Hermione in the hallway. Hermione motioned for Blaise and Pansy to go on to lunch without her. Blaise rolled her eyes and hurried off.

"I am so happy to see you," Violet said.

"Um, me too," Hermione said cautiously.

"We have to hang out after school today, I have something really important to tell you," Violet insisted. Hermione shook her head.

"I'm grounded," she sighed. Violet's jaw dropped.

"That's absurd," she protested. Hermione shrugged. "Whatever, your mom loves me. I'll come visit all the time. What are you grounded for?"

"Um, my bad attitude and drinking too much," Hermione summarized. Violet rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you don't drink that much at all," she defended. "But I can kind of see the attitude thing. I mean, you've been skipping class a lot and talking back to teachers which you've never done in your life. Not that some of them don't deserve it, but still."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "I won't be skipping class anymore, Coach Kerry won't let me dance at the games if I skip any more classes from now on."

"Well, that's a relief," Violet said happily. "I've missed you in portfolio."

"Let's go eat," Hermione suggested, changing the subject. She was annoyed that Violet agreed with her mother.

"Oh, are you eating again?" Violet asked, surprised. Hermione thought for a moment and "remembered" that she had been on a very strict no food after 8am diet, hoping to lose a few pounds so she could fit into her Dance Team uniform a little better.

"Probably not," she admitted. "But I want to look at what everyone else is eating."

"Seriously, Hermione, you're going to wind up in the hospital," Violet rolled her eyes, looking for a moment very much like Blaise.

"Whatever, it's just temporary," Hermione said as they walked down the hall to the cafeteria. "Just until the team qualifies for competition."

"Right, right," Violet agreed. "Well, I thought you looked fine when I saw you on TV."

"Thanks," Hermione said politely. Didn't she know "fine" wasn't good enough? Violet just didn't understand. A chill went down her spine as these thoughts filled her head. Things were definitely different in the States this time. Hermione didn't know why but she did know that it was no good at all.

* * *

"Hello, Mrs. Granger," Violet singsonged as she followed Hermione into the house after school that day.

"Violet, call me Vic, please," Hermione's mother insisted, smiling at her daughter's friend. "And I'm sorry, but you can't stay. Hermione's grounded."

"She told me, but honestly, Vic, I think it's a bit much," Violet said gently. Hermione was awed that anyone would stand up to someone else's parent like this, but her mother didn't seem at all fazed. "Hermione is practically a saint compared to a lot of the other girls on the dance team. Anyway, I'm here so we can study for our government test tomorrow."

"Well," Victoria Granger studied Hermione's face and then looked back at Violet. "I guess if you're going to study it's alright. But stay here in the kitchen."

"Oh, come on," Hermione protested before she knew what she was saying. She knew her mother was being generous in letting Violet stay despite her punishment.

"No, Hermione, if you're going to study you can stay here in the kitchen and do it. If not, Violet can leave," her mother insisted. Hermione made a face and dropped her duffel bag on the ground angrily. "Help yourself to whatever, we're having a late dinner tonight," Hermione's mother said as she left the kitchen.

"You could chill out a bit," Violet offered, "She wants to be nice to you but you won't let her."

"Remember when my mom was cool?" Hermione sighed, climbing onto a barstool. She opened her textbook.

"Comparatively, your mom still is cool," Violet informed Hermione. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anyway, do you think there's any cheesecake around? Your mom's caterer makes the best cheesecake."

"Bottom shelf in the fridge," Hermione said. "Would you mind grabbing me a soda?"

"Diet?" Violet asked. Hermione nodded. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"I had an enormous breakfast," Hermione lied. "French toast and bacon."

"Hmm," Violet remarked, marking her disbelief. She cut herself a slice of cheesecake and set it at her place next to Hermione. Taking her seat, she didn't open any books but observed Hermione carefully for a minute. "There's something I want to talk to you about, but I'm not really sure where to begin."

"Oh god," Hermione put down her highlighter. "You're not pregnant or something, are you?"

"No, nothing like that," Violet laughed nervously. "It's something I hope you'll be excited about."

"Well, go on then," Hermione urged.

"Alright," Violet took a deep breath. "Hermione, I'm a witch."

Hermione thought for a moment before she reacted. Was it possible that Violet was actually a witch in the same sense that Hermione was? Or did Violet mean something else? Sometimes muggles who were big fans of fantasy novels or movies called themselves witches though they practiced no magic whatsoever. And then there were those people who practiced Paganism who were witches, but of a different variety than Hermione. Whatever it was, Hermione wanted to get more information before she revealed anything to Violet.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. Violet let out the breath she had been holding.

"I mean, I'm a witch. Just like you," she explained. "I know all about your Muggle Studies project and Hogwarts." Hermione smiled happily.

"How is that even possible?" she laughed. "You go to a regular school!"

"Magic education is very different here," Violet said. "You know those college courses I'm taking?"

"They're not actually college courses," Hermione reasoned. "You're taking magic courses in addition to regular high school?"

"Only some students qualify," Violet explained. "In this area it's better for wizards and witches to blend in with society rather than use magic to hide beneath it. So you begin at magic school when you turn 6. After 8 years, you take a comprehensive exam. The top 40 of the class attends regular high school during the day and takes magic courses in the afternoon or evening. The middle 40 attend magic school for two more years and then transfer into a regular high school and continue magic courses also. And the bottom 20 are stuck in magic school for the next four years."

"So after you finish high school, what will you do?" Hermione asked.

"Some of the oldest universities in the country also have magic programs," Violet said proudly. "And it just so happens that all the schools you've applied to have them."

"Really?" Hermione was incredulous. "That's absolutely fascinating."

"The best part is that since you're doing this Muggle Studies project, once you finish at Hogwarts you can apply to any magic program in the U.S." Violet said happily. Hermione's jaw dropped. She had absolutely never dreamed about going to college to study magic. Such a thing was just too good to be true.

"I'm not sure Draco would like that," Hermione said sadly, remembering her boyfriend suddenly. It wouldn't exactly be possible for her to stand behind her boyfriend if she were all the way in the States.

"Wow, so you two are really serious?" Violet asked. Hermione nodded. "And you don't think he'd support something like this if it was what you really wanted to do?"

"I don't think it's really up to him," Hermione sighed, thinking of Lord Voldemort.

"What do you mean?" Violet studied Hermione's face. Hermione shook her head.

"It's nothing," she insisted. "I'll definitely talk to him about it. Maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised."

"Let's hope so," Violet grinned. "I'm dying to meet the real Hermione Granger. You know, the one you were back in August when you first got here?"

"I'm still here," Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's just the circumstances around me that are different."

"Hmph," Violet raised her eyebrows. Without any warning at all she grabbed Hermione's arm and pushed her sleeve back to reveal a strange black tattoo on her upper arm. Hermione gasped. "I knew it," Violet shook her head.

"What?" Hermione asked, studying the tattoo. Upon closer inspection she could see the Dark Mark hidden in the middle of an elaborate knot of vines. Violet shook her head disapprovingly.

"You did not follow my instructions," Violet said. "You can't scratch it, the ink fades."

"Err," Hermione's voice caught in her throat. She stared at the tattoo and suddenly remembered that Violet's new boyfriend was a tattoo artist. He had done Hermione's tattoo despite the fact she wasn't of legal age just yet. "It was really itchy," she tried to recover.

"Maybe Dane will touch it up for you," Violet rolled her eyes. "God, your mom would really kill you if she saw that."

"I don't even want to think about that," Hermione sighed. "I feel like I can't even breathe around here these days."

"Believe me, you've got it easy," Violet scoffed. "We should probably start working on that study guide."

"Yeah, okay," Hermione agreed.

* * *

After two weeks of being a "good girl" again, Hermione felt completely worn out. And completely left out of her social life. Blaise and Pansy were doing their best to keep her up to date on the important details, but Hermione could only stand listening to so many stories about how drunk everyone was getting over the weekend. What bothered her more were the days when the two girls would show up in new clothes they had bought on their shopping trip the previous afternoon. Hermione hated shopping, but she was dying to get out of her house for any reason besides school.

Fortunately, her mother took pity on Hermione who spent every evening moping about how she was stuck in the house and ended her punishment a week early. Relieved, Hermione rushed over to Draco's house immediately.

She let herself in and said a quick hello to Narcissa before heading down to the basement where Draco was most likely to be found. The television down there wasn't actually a television, but a projector aimed at a blank wall. This caused the people to be life-size or bigger and as the entire concept of television fascinated Draco, it was where he spent most of his time.

"I think she's taking it pretty well, actually," Blaise's voice echoed around Hermione as she descended the staircase. Hermione froze where she was standing.

"I don't know," Pansy's voice was clear too. "She seemed alright at Hogwarts, but it's weird the way she's acting here."

"What do you mean?" Draco sounded concerned.

"Well, she doesn't eat," Pansy began. "Apparently she was skipping class alot and talking back to teachers."

"Alright, but who doesn't skip class?" Blaise demanded.

"Hermione doesn't skip class," Pansy insisted. "And the sex thing. Not that I really care about that, but what if her attitude change in this world is like a bad reaction to becoming a Death Eater or something?"

"I think you're overreacting," Blaise put in.

"You might have a point though," Draco said thoughtfully. "I guess I could talk to her."

"Talk to who?" Hermione asked, turning the corner so she could see her friends. They looked up guiltily, but Draco recovered quickly.

"Our leadership teacher," he said, getting to his feet. "We're not sure the junior class has gotten a good enough start with Prom plans."

"Oh," Hermione smiled. "Mom ended my punishment," she said happily.

"So I see," Draco gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you," he added.

"I've missed you," Hermione sighed.

"We should get going," Blaise said as she and Pansy got up from the couch. "I'm sure you two want some alone time."

"Thanks," Draco said, flashing a toothy grin at the girls.

"Hermione, you should come by later," Blaise suggested, exchanging a look with Pansy. "We have some things to discuss."

"Alright," Hermione agreed, feeling a knot form in her stomach. She wasn't sure what Blaise had in mind but it sounded ominous.

"Nothing serious," Pansy said as though she were reading Hermione's mind. "Just girl stuff," she explained.

"We'll order pizza or something," Blaise added as she headed up the stairs. Hermione's stomach rumbled of its own accord. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten pizza.

With the girls gone, Draco took a seat on the couch and motioned for Hermione to join him. She snuggled up next to him, breathing in his familiar scent. It was soft and comforting. Turning her head, Hermione started to kiss Draco's neck. He turned his head to meet her lips with his own. Hermione eagerly returned his kisses, pressing hard against him, yearning for more. She moved to straddle him but Draco pulled away.

"Hermione, I think we should talk," he said looking into her eyes. She heaved a sigh and smoothed her hair. "I'm getting a little worried about you. You're not really acting like yourself anymore."

"It's not a big deal," Hermione shrugged. "I think it's just a mistake that happened when the ministry sent us over here."

"But I'm wondering if it isn't more than that," Draco continued. "I've noticed you've lost a lot of weight recently."

"Not really," Hermione made a face. "I have to be ready for competition."

"Shouldn't you focus on your dancing more than your weight?" Draco asked. "You need to keep your energy up and skipping meals isn't going to help that."

"I think I know what I'm doing," Hermione insisted.

"I'm not so sure," Draco disagreed. He took a deep breath. "I hate to do this, Hermione, but I order you to start eating again. I want you to write down everything you eat and show it to me so I know you're getting enough to eat."

"What?" Hermione's jaw dropped and she moved further away from him. "You can't be serious."

"I'm not joking," Draco said firmly. "I have to insist."

"You can't do that," Hermione protested. Draco looked sad.

"I'm afraid that I can," he informed her. "It's your duty as my girlfriend to do my bidding."

"But that's absurd," Hermione was shocked.

"Maybe," Draco agreed half-heartedly. He thought for a moment. "I also have to insist that we stop having sex."

"What?" Hermione's brow furrowed. She could feel her stomach churning.

"I don't think its right. I made you a promise at Hogwarts and I think we should honor that," Draco explained.

"Did I do something wrong?" Hermione asked, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry if I made a mistake, just tell me, I'll make it right."

"No, Hermione, it's not like that. The more I thought about it the more I felt like we were letting ourselves down. I never wanted for us to rush into having sex, I wanted it to be special. I just hope that when we get to go home we'll still have that to look forward to," he sighed.

"Please, I don't understand," Hermione was crying now. "Is this about me skipping classes and talking back to teachers?"

"That's not what this is about, though I don't think that's like you at all," Draco took a deep breath. "Hermione, I love you. You mean the world to me and I want to treat you like that. So please, just let me. Don't second guess it, just trust me that I'm looking out for what's best for both of us."


End file.
